Gift
by Lapis Love
Summary: After walking in on Elena and Damon, Bonnie Bennett has made the choice to live for herself, to not dwell on the past, and to ignore those feelings that were beginning to churn in her head and heart for a certain immortal. Only problem is, Damon Salvatore doesn't want to cooperate in letting her go. He's got a choice to make. Have something real or something fake. Post 6x17 fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To quote Romeo "Why does thou leave me so dissatisfied?" or something to that effect. This is post 6x17. I know I should be working on Part 3 of my latest Bamon Vigne series but I am having major muse/plot issues with that so it's taking longer to come together. So I wrote this up mostly in rebellion and because of feels the episode evoked in me. Enjoy. **

Disclaimer: These characters (except my OC) belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. Copyright infringement is not intended.

* * *

Bonnie Bennett thought she wanted to be around people again, but the people she usually hung around left a lot to be desired. Kai was trapped, probably being passed around like a blunt among Lily's desiccated brethren—that thought managed to eek a smirk out of Bonnie. Still, it had been a night of walking in on her friends getting Biblical, a sight she'd wouldn't wish on anyone. Mounting heaps of awkwardness aside, all it did was augment how lonely she truly was.

She drove around Mystic Falls aimlessly and ended up outside of her childhood home. It had been put up on the market. No one had bought it yet and Bonnie hoped no one would. Her car idled outside as she noted everything about the house she hadn't noticed in the eighteen years she lived there. The fact the last number on the house was slightly crooked. One of the posts on the veranda was lopsided.

Memories surfaced. Falling down the brick stairs when she was ten and scraping her knee. The porch swing that had been in serious need of oiling that typically scared her awake whenever a strong wind blew by and caused it to move back and forward. Her house was a house but it had never truly been a home. Bonnie had always felt more comfortable under Grams' roof, and now that comfort was gone as well.

She pressed her foot on the accelerator and pulled back out on the road. Bonnie realized she would have to let go of Grams. Not what she meant to her, she could never do that, but at some point she would have to stop using Grams as a crutch, move on and finally live.

Bonnie had held herself back and for what? What was the point when everyone else around her lived out their fantasies or nightmares at whim? For too long she had been controlled either by the bounds of magic, duty, responsibility, and then out of fear of losing the last visages of the life she had been brought up in that turned out to be one disappointing lie. There were no threats skulking around wishing her or those she cared about harm. The harm was now _them. _Stefan and Caroline…who at the moment was probably licking some chick's blood off each other's fingertips. Needless to say, they were without their humanity, and yet somehow still found time to bang one another senseless.

Damon and Elena, Bonnie wouldn't even permit herself to go there. Back in 1994 she and Damon had talked about lots of things, but the one topic he always wiggled himself out of was any serious discussion about Elena. Bonnie understood why. It was painful being separated from the one you loved. That's why she hardly brought up Jeremy. She hadn't been in the mood to hear any scathing comments from Damon about her relationship, or the young man she had chosen to fall in love with.

Yet where was that love today? Jeremy was off in New Mexico living out his dream of becoming an artist, and here she was still wedged in the middle of matters that were really none of her business.

Bonnie's hands tightened on the steering wheel as she thought of the gift she had given Damon tonight. The cure. Twenty-four hours ago he had disregarded her request never, ever to bring Kai up to her again, to even have the audacity to utter his name, but what did Damon do? Brought the sociopath right to her at the moment she was dealing with culture shock and trying to get her bearings under control.

She remembered being so relieved seeing Damon thinking he might have detected the distress in her voice and merely showed up provide comfort in the only way he knew how. Unfortunately, Bonnie had been proven wrong the minute Kai came scurrying around the corner and gave her that piss poor apology as if that was supposed to erase every demeaning and humiliating thing he had done to her.

In that moment she felt more than just betrayed, but as if she was being flayed alive while her mind replayed her horrific ordeal in the prison world. Bonnie realized she shouldn't have been surprised by Damon's single-mindedness. However, it hadn't hurt any less that the _one_ person who was supposed to understand, have her back, threw her under the proverbial bus because he wanted something. His wants trumped her comfort, her peace, her _self. _Damon had let her down.

But she had given in, given Damon what he wanted. The deal had only sweetened marginally when he spelled out the rest of the terms of her tagging along to 1903. The relief she experienced in feeling that knife sink into Kai's back and hamstring, Bonnie had felt wild and in that moment could understand a vampire's desire to kill. The power, the adrenaline, the _blood_. Hurting something that had hurt her, Bonnie wanted to relish the moment but then Kai had to do his stupid disappearing act, but she didn't care. Seeing the fear in his eyes had been enough. That moment was eerily reminiscent of when she told Silas bygones and snatched her hand away as he was sucked into oblivion.

Another layer of rock and ice encased Bonnie's heart. Something could only hurt her if she gave it power to hurt her. She vowed nothing would ever again. She had to start looking out for herself.

Tonight had ended leaving her in a quagmire of feelings she didn't fully understand.

Walking in on Damon and Elena, her best friend's neck in Damon's mouth, that look of rapture on Elena's face, pure bliss, Bonnie felt a twinge of envy. For too long all she knew or got a chance to feel was fear, loneliness, being expendable, a means to an end, depression. Periods of happiness had been just that. Periods. Non-lasting.

"I guess it's time to change it," Bonnie said aloud.

Her friends' issues wouldn't become her issues. If they were bad enough to get themselves into sticky situations then they were clever enough to get themselves out. She had been gone for ten months and they survived, just barely, without her interference. They would be quite fine without their resident witch living unhappily in their back pocket.

"Screw them all."

* * *

His—well rather Elena's ingenious plan to use his mom to trigger an emotional response in Stefan who would then trigger an emotional response in Blondie was not exactly working out how Damon envisioned. Came as no shocker really because his plans had a seventy percent failure rate no matter how exact he had the logistics worked out. Something invariably went wrong.

The infamous Lillian Salvatore wouldn't stop harping in his ear about her "family", constantly pestering Damon on when they would return for those who helped recondition her humanity. Damon knew he was running out of time before Lily figured out he had no intentions of going back for the ones she claimed gave her a new lease in life. After that it wouldn't be long before she took her anger out on him and the town at large. It had only been five days, but Lily could no longer be distracted with the marvels of the post-Victorian world, and consequently they hadn't made a dent in getting Stefan back on the straight and narrow.

Holding her ripper side at bay was about a day or two of expiring.

The other issue that had been weighing heavily on him, pressing uncomfortably on his heart was the cure. He held the ticket to giving Elena her humanness back and he had yet to tell her. Damon could blame his procrastination on a number of things, but they were just poor excuses to hide the truth. He knew that a human Elena wouldn't or couldn't love him the way Vampire Elena could and was learning to do once more. Things were better than ever between them, and to throw this monkey wrench into the pot, Damon didn't want to risk losing her. He understood there was a fifty percent chance Elena's feelings, whatever they were at the moment may remain, or severely diminish since vampirism was like steroids and heightened emotions. That was just another problem he didn't need to juggle at the moment. So Damon made a promise to himself. As soon as things were squared away with his mom, Stefan, and grudgingly Caroline _then _he would tell Elena about the cure.

Pleased he mentally handled one issue which really he hadn't done anything but make a conscious decision to stall, Damon eyed his phone. He needed to talk to Bonnie, but unsure of her head space and the fact he hadn't really apologized the way he should have, he could say he was avoiding her. To be fair, it couldn't be construed as avoiding if neither one of them had picked up the phone to call the other, and she hadn't stopped by the boardinghouse since that night. He was curious as to what she was doing with herself, but again his plate was full on things to worry about.

So he stood in front of the stain glass window peering out into the backyard. A floorboard creaked garnering his attention, and Damon glanced over his shoulder not the least bit surprised to find his mother staring at him cautiously and inquisitively.

"You seem like you have a lot on your mind."

"I do," Damon cleared his throat.

Lily eased her way into the living room, "Something you want to talk about?"

At her query, Damon turned, faced the woman who gave birth to him, the woman he mourned, the woman he missed more than he cared to admit, the woman who _lied_. Hindsight being twenty-twenty and that at the end of the day he was no better than Lily, Damon could understand her reasons for staying away from him and Stefan. Didn't mean he had to cooperate and be the loving son she remembered. He was petty like that.

His eyebrows furrowed into peaks. "Just thinking about how to fix Stefan. The same as yesterday and the day before."

"Oh, I thought maybe you might have been thinking about that long-haired girl...Eloise."

"Elena."

"Right," Lily looked away, stared at the furnishings.

It was at this moment Damon realized he had been robbed of the opportunity of introducing his mom to the woman he'd court. Sure and she and Elena met in the prison world, but Damon was thinking of when he became of age as a human to start wife hunting and bringing a woman that would have been of _his _choosing to meet his mother. He could care less if Lily approved of Elena, and he was sure she'd probably balk if she discovered Elena had been with and loved Stefan first. That wasn't the issue. The issue was he missed well over a century with the woman who had made such a huge difference in his life, or would have had he not been led to believe she died when he was seventeen.

"You seem really smitten with her," Lily said.

"She's…smittable," Damon rolled his eyes at his own lame attempt at humor. "She's not exactly the one on my mind though. I mean, I'm thinking about her…"

"She's not the one giving you problems. Look, Damon I understand your hesitancy to trust me given on account of what you've been told. But we all go through a period of darkness. That doesn't mark us but how we come out of it, the path we choose to walk down _that _does."

Damon said nothing but nodded. "Want a drink?"

"No thank you. Alcohol is one of my triggers."

"Noted," Damon placed the top back on the decanter and made yet another notation to hide the booze, lock it up somewhere tight.

Lily came closer to her oldest with eyes that nearly matched her own. She had wasted what felt like centuries thinking of the moment of seeing her children again once learning they had suffered the same fate as her. Giuseppe was probably rolling in his well-deserved grave, and Lily had the mind to dig him up and spit on him, but there was no need to be macabre.

Damon was troubled about a myriad of things, that was plain to see. And what was also plain to see was the fact he didn't exactly want to talk to her about it. She could let that prickle her ire or simply let it roll off her back. Lily figured being a mother to Damon was not what he needed right at the moment. But she'd try anyways.

"Talking helps the most in easing a troubled mind. I used to say that to you whenever you and Giuseppe would quarrel. It may be dated advice or the opposite of what you want to hear, but I'm sure you can think of one person you want to talk to whether it's Elaine…"

"Elena," Damon corrected.

"Sorry, I should be better with names," Lily smiled ruefully. "Or maybe you can speak with the brown skinned girl, Bonnie."

Oh, you can remember her name, Damon thought suspiciously. "Yeah only problem is I don't think she wants to talk to me."

Lily arched an eyebrow. She may not have made her presence known in the house, but she listened. Heard things. Bonnie's name had been mentioned quite a few times, and she picked up on the change in her son's timbre when talking about the girl. He was extremely fond of her.

"Why? Did you two have a falling out?"

"No, not…exactly…maybe," Damon was confused. "I did something and didn't really apologize for it. I'm not one of her favorite people at the moment."

"When do you plan on making things right? You're friends with her, yes?" Damon nodded. "Friends are valuable things, Damon. You can't handle friendship lightly and still expect someone to be there for you. If you've done something to wrong her then you know it's up to you to make it right. Post haste. I'm going to go upstairs and rest."

She was gone in the blink of an eye leaving Damon standing in his living room breathing heavily through his nostrils.

Picking up his cell, Damon put in a call to Bonnie. It didn't ring once before it was routed to voice mail.

"Great," Damon muttered under his breath. "Hey, Bonnie it's Damon. Can you give me a call back? It's…it's not urgent, I'd just like to speak with you. I still owe you a real apology. So if you want it, you know where to find me," he hung up and flung his phone on the couch. "Real smooth, Damon. Real smooth."

* * *

Two days later and he still hadn't heard from Bonnie. Damon didn't know how to process that. He had replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Her words had been spoken light-heartedly, and she had draped her hand over his while he held the chest containing the cure in his clutches. That couldn't have been a farewell, right?

Slyly Damon questioned the others if they had heard from or seen Bonnie. The consensus had been a resounding 'no'. He told himself not to panic. Bonnie had to be somewhere around here. But if she hadn't been staying at the dorm, definitely hadn't been freeloading at the boardinghouse where the fuck was she?

Cruising down fraternity row after receiving a drunk dial from Elena pleading with him to come pick her up, Damon grit his teeth and found a place to park. In front of fire hydrant no less. Loud rap music could be heard from blocks away and Damon was unfamiliar with the song, but not unfamiliar with the scene of sweaty coed bodies dry humping one another, red Solo cups raised in the air.

Several girls eyed him hungrily; a few were bold enough to touch him. Damon ignored it all, pushing people out of his way, shouldering past high football players, drunk basketball stars, and unconscious nerds who didn't know their limits.

Damon craned over bobbing heads searching for Elena but she found him first, jumping on his back nearly knocking him off his feet. She placed a cold, drooly kiss on his cheek making him wince.

"Hey," she slurred and unfortunately assaulted Damon with alcohol breath. "You came!"

Prying Elena off his back, he swung her in front of him taking in her dazed appearance and scanty apparel. "Let's go."

"Wait I have to tell Bonnie."

Something blew up in Damon's head. "Bonnie's here?" he started a new search among the revelers looking for that petite witch.

Elena nodded and her nods turned into bobbing her head, off beat, to the next song to start playing. "Dance with me Damon," she began swaying in front of him.

Damon held up a finger in front of her face to get her to focus. "If Bonnie is here we need to find her. We can't leave her here by herself."

"Oh, but she's not here by herself. She came with someone," Elena batted her eyelashes and burst out into laughter. "It's about time. I was starting to feel bad for her. She's the only one who doesn't have someone. Well except for Tyler but who cares about Tyler. Even Matt is seeing someone."

Damon slowly turned his head toward Elena. Her eyes were closed, arms thrown up in the air while her body did something that could barely pass as dancing. The older immortal wondered how much she had to drink and he didn't mean booze.

"Be a good girl and wait here, Elena while I try to find our little friend."

Damon doubted if Elena heard a word of what he said. She was lost in her own world, but he had no qualms leaving her unattended at a frat party. If some guy tried anything she didn't want, she could eat him. Problem solved.

Moving through the press of bodies, Damon searched the rest of the living room, kitchen, dining room, the backyard. No sign of Bonnie. Traveling upstairs he came across couples and triplets, a bedroom filled with dudes playing video games of all asinine things to do at a party, another room where some explicit activity was taking place and being filmed. Damon could smell the scandal coming.

Heading up to the third floor, the environment was much more subdued. Less people, one room that housed a pool table, but at the far end of the hall was a balcony. Damon caught sight of a familiar silhouette.

Quietly he advanced down the hall keeping his eyes on the prize. His ears were tickled by the sound of Bonnie's laughter. The kind he couldn't be sure he had ever heard before, not even in 1994. Bonnie smiled, snorted, or chuckled. The most anyone could coax out of her was a giggle, but true honest to God laughter was rare. He had to say he liked the sound. A lot.

Damon stood about a foot away from the threshold. He couldn't see the guy Bonnie was talking to. Their backs were to him and he was inclined to believe it wasn't Bonnie at all. This girl, yeah she was Bonnie's height, but her hair was thick, wavy, and came to the middle of her back. She was wearing a waist length leather jacket, a tight black skirt that stopped right underneath her ass with fuchsia fishnet stockings, and sky high heels. The Bonnie Damon knew didn't show that much leg. And for a moment he found it impossible to look away.

"I'm glad you invited me, Cristiano," she said. "I'm having a much better time than I thought I would. The last party I went to…didn't end so well."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad you're here. I didn't think you would show up."

"Well you made an offer I couldn't refuse."

"If given the chance I hope to make more."

Something about this conversation bothered Damon, and his eye narrowed. Cristiano? Seriously?

Damon cleared his throat. "Bonnie?"

Her laughter instantly died and a minute or two may have passed before she pivoted around to face him.

Don't ask Damon why he was finding it impossible to breathe or even remember his name at the moment. But he stared at Bonnie and she stared right back. His life had just gotten another complication.

**A/N: OMG if this ain't clichéd, but let me live. Most importantly let me know what you thought of this. I can say I'm on the fence of continuing. Black girls need love too and that's the main reason I started this because I'm tired of witnessing everyone get love on this show but my queen. I'm freaking exhausted while writing this, but nevertheless thank you so much for reading. Love you. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All righty after treading my way through twitter fudgery and the mess that's become the Bamon tag on Tumblr, I've arisen with an update. A heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, added to your list of faves, and is now following this WIP that I have no clue how long it'll be or where it's going. Strap on a seatbelt, kittens.**

Disclaimer: I disclaim. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Two hours ago…**

Brisk. That's what the air felt like and that's how quickly she walked through the concrete jungle, sky high heels tapping a beat, a signal to those loitering along the avenue that she was coming. She wasn't wearing much to shield her from the cold, or lascivious stares of men who clustered together in groups of three or four, or the lone wolf waiting for the perfect opportunity to howl.

Other women probably wouldn't strut through town alone this time of night, and if they did, they'd keep their eyes completely straight, hands buried deep in their pockets, footfalls steady and sure. No deviation whatsoever that could be used against them in the court of unwanted advances and crass catcalls that would one's self-worth into question.

She didn't need to wear a deadly or stern expression on her face that translated into "don't try it" in various unspoken languages. In her short tenure she had acquired something of a reputation.

Bonnie Bennett moved north hitting the main street, manicured fingers tucked into the fur-lined pockets of her leather jacket. The brisk air blew through her raven locks to which she tossed occasionally over her shoulder to make sure they didn't get stuck to her berry hued lips. One of the perils of long hair, but she missed the ticklish feeling of thick tresses brushing along her neck.

Up ahead, she spotted the rendezvous point. A 50's inspired diner brightly lit that looked out of place with the Victorian motif of surrounding buildings. The front entrance was surrounded by men twice her size wearing coats that were three sizes too big for their frames. She could see the red-orange embers of cigarettes as two of them smoked, while the others stood around, moving incessantly to stay warm.

Bonnie's verdant eyes shrunk momentarily, but she never slowed or broke stride. This would be the part most women would inwardly cringe, but not her. She would admit to feeling a tiny bit anxious. The rule of thumb stated: There was always that one special asshole that failed to read silent cues and would accost any woman of his choosing as if she should be pleased by his lewd attention.

The men's voices, who just seconds ago carried the boisterous lit of superiority, dimmed when they heard her approaching. A few shifted to watch her, one bold enough to lick his lips and eye her from top to bottom and back again. Her legs were exposed in her short skirt, but were housed in a pair of fuchsia fishnet hosiery. Definitely a far cry from her standard attire, but Bonnie planned it that way. Wanted something that would make an announcement that the old her was dead and buried.

As she drew closer, ignoring them, Bonnie looked at one guy directly. His face was skewered by the ball cap stuffed on his head, and the collar of his jacket was flipped up, but she had seen him enough around campus. To him she offered a smirk while he blindly pressed his forearm into the chest of the unidentified man standing next to him who inhaled a breath to start heckling.

Another moved quickly up the short path leading to the diner, and opened the door for her.

"Thanks," Bonnie muttered.

"Anything for you, queen," he replied back in a voice that actually made Bonnie slow her steps and take his measure.

He was cute in a 'I just pulled a double shift at the oldest auto body shop in town,' way.

Bonnie's feet hit stained linoleum. Her nostrils was overpowered by the aroma of fried food, coffee, age, and a sterilizing cleanser as a bus boy quickly wiped down a table that had been vacated just minutes prior to her arrival.

The inside of the diner was tiny, a postage stamp of a place that sold the usual American staples at a cheap price that offered flavor, diabetes, and hypertension within a single bite. But it was a beloved spot operated by an aged Italian man and his irresponsible nephew who spent more time flirting with anyone decent looking over the age of eighteen, but younger than fifty.

There were only seven booths total and three of those booths were currently occupied. Old men sat at the lunch counter, hunched over their meals devouring them as if they hadn't fed properly all day. One man in particular was holding an animated conversation with the lone waitress on call who smiled just as hugely, holding her slightly pudgy stomach, and swatting a tear away.

The heat in the eatery forced Bonnie to unzip her jacket but not remove it. She may have loved coming here when she had been a student, but the place wasn't the cleanest, and she certainly didn't want any stains to end up on her newly purchased outfit.

Her feet continued tapping out a beat as she moved to the center of the restaurant, which really only took about three steps to get there. Bonnie hovered over the cracked, sea-green leather booth, and waited to be acknowledged by the man seated there in a sharply tailored suit.

He finally looked up and offered Bonnie a smile that she reciprocated. He held out a hand indicating for her to sit.

Bonnie folded her body into the padded seat across from him. Checked the surface of the laminate table before draping her elbows atop it.

"You're looking well," he broke the silence and reached for a packet of Splenda to add to his lukewarm coffee.

"Thank you. How's Abby?"

The man's soft brown eyes crinkled around the edges as he stirred his coffee. He took only a cursory sip and then made a steeple of his fingers. "She's staying out of trouble in case you were worried."

"I wasn't."

"I," the man stammered, "I understand things aren't exactly…copasetic between you two, but she is worried, Bonnie."

She nodded. "And she has my number just as I have hers if she's so worried she should learn to use it."

The man cleared his throat which did little to lessen the bite of Bonnie's words, "Shall we get down to it, then?"

"Yes," Bonnie said. "I have somewhere I have to be very soon."

Twenty-five minutes later, Bonnie was leaving, a bundled package held tightly under her arm. Her cell vibrated and she dug it out of her pocket. A slight smile curled her lips as she read the text message. She typed a response.

**See you soon. **

Forty minutes later, sound exploded in her ears as she arrived at the frat house bursting with people. Bonnie cleaved her way through bodies, her paranoia and anxiety rising like dough.

The setting was all too stereotypical as she covertly surveyed the place. Stressed out college kids drinking, carousing, kissing, dry humping, doing body shots or having debates. What Bonnie hadn't expected to see was a glowing Statue of Liberty in a corner with booze of some sort shooting from her tit. The atmosphere was cloaked in liquor and loose inhibitions. It would have made Dionysus proud.

She made her way through, doing her best not to touch anyone, side-stepping revelers as if they were poison.

"Bonnie Bennett," Tyler Lockwood slurred her name and staggered a bit from side to side as he headed towards her. It was somewhat comforting to see him inebriated reminding her of high school parties in the woods when the only thing they had to fear was being busted by the cops and Old Man Miller's shotgun.

They weren't as far from Kansas as Bonnie would have liked.

"Tyler," she said and didn't waste the effort of putting actual enthusiasm in her greeting.

He took a swig from a bottle and eyed her legs lasciviously. It took a minute for him to remember she had a face and gawked at it. "Not to sound rude but what are you doing here? This isn't typically your scene," he belched.

Bonnie's nose wrinkled. "As much as I would normally explain myself I rather save my breath. Don't fall and bust your head open, okay."

She tried to walk away but Tyler grabbed a hold of her wrist. "Wait."

Bonnie tensed.

Tyler vaguely noticed and quickly let go. "There's something I need to say to you."

"What?"

"I was a dick."

"Okay not really a revelation."

"I have...we're not close. We've never been close, but you've saved my life and I never even thanked you for it," Tyler filled his cheeks with air and blew it out. His obsidian eyes were glazed and he seemed to be putting in a hell of an effort to come off as sincere while being drunk off his ass. "_Thank_ you…for everything."

A weighty pause passed between them. A lot could be said between two people who've known each other for as long as they have. Regrettably, their relationship was like a faulty plane. It never took off the ground and neither one seemed the least bit motivated to change it. Tyler would be that guy Bonnie forgot existed until his life was in danger. He probably viewed her in the same light. Sad and tragic, but it worked for them.

Bonnie broke the silence. "I guess you're welcome."

"I'm gonna be a cop someday, Bonnie. If you need me just call..."

"911 I got it, Tyler."

At that time Bonnie spotted her date for the evening waiting for her on the steps beckoning her with a megawatt smile. She forgot about Tyler, fought her way through the condensed horde, and felt insane relief the minute her fingers touched Cristiano's. He pulled her up the stairs as if she were drowning in quicksand.

Bonnie snuggled into his warmth, the whisper of peppermint on his breath. He introduced her to his friends and then whispered in her ear if she wanted to go somewhere quieter. Bonnie gave him a dubious look as if to say 'where in the hell would there be a quiet place in this house?' He laughed at her unspoken words, but mainly at the expression on her face that brightened despite the dismal light.

"Follow me," Cristiano said like the spider to the fly, the wolf to the sheep.

They moved over to the wall side of the stairs since a group of guys were heading down. None of them passed up the opportunity to make a lewd comment to Bonnie who ignored them for the most part. Guys at parties, she learned, were far from sincere and only interested in hooking up. She was far from interested in obliging anyone. Unfortunately, one of them had been stupid enough to spank her ass. The stinging pain of that hit jolted up to her belly.

Bonnie saw red.

She whirled around, livid, and grabbed the asshole by his balls and squeezed, _hard_. The guy let out a yelp like a dog being hit by a car and bent over in an awkward attempt to lessen the grip Bonnie had on his baby maker.

Bonnie spoke directly in his ear but loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Do you know what I can do to your dick right now and I can guarantee it won't have you screaming in pleasure, but screaming to Jesus to save you. Don't you _ever_ put your hands on me or another woman again without her consent. Got it?"

The guy wheezed, obviously in tremendous pain, if not by the fact veins were crisscrossing along his forehead, and he was turning a scary shade of purple in the face.

For the sheer joy of it, Bonnie squeezed again. "Got. It?"

A breathless, "…yes…" was his reply.

"Doesn't feel so good when someone lays a hand on you in a manner you don't want, right?"

"No," he croaked. "Leggo...please..."

"Bonnie, got damn," Cristiano exclaimed. "I think he's learned his lesson."

"For his sake I hope so." She released him none too gently and if it hadn't been for his friends he would have tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs.

Several people stared at her either in shock or amusement.

Touch used to be something Bonnie enjoyed and something she had gone an appallingly long time without. But the last few people who touched her had inflicted either physical or mental pain, and she wasn't here for anyone she did not approve of to touch her in any form that her mind construed as aggressive. Regardless of intent, there was a velvet rope and a guard surrounding her ordering people not to get any closer or suffer the consequences.

Cristiano lightly cupped her elbow, "Are you all right?"

Bonnie wasn't given the chance to respond for her name was called again. Her eyes took a twelve hour spin before landing on Elena.

Once the doppelganger made it to where Bonnie was, her gaze darted between her friend and the overtly handsome guy standing protectively behind her. It didn't take long for the pieces to fall into place in Elena's addled brain, and she was grinning goofily.

"Hey, pointless to ask what you're doing here. I'm glad to see you." Elena yelled over the music and covered up her mouth with a cup. She leaned forward, "He's cute."

"I know," Bonnie concurred demurely.

"Are you two...?" Elena let the implication hang.

Months ago, the two of them used to be able to carry out an entire conversation with raised brows and little twitches of their mouths, but that language was lost now. Or better yet, Bonnie wasn't up to decoding what Elena was basically broadcasting. Anytime she got within feet of a moderately to severely attractive guy, Elena would give her a sly look which loosely translated into: go for it. The last few times Elena had given her that look Jamie and Professor Shady Pants were the intended targets, and Bonnie needed no reminders of how both of those situations turned out.

"Elena, this is Cristiano. Cristiano, Elena," Bonnie introduced them.

The two shook hands.

"I'll meet you upstairs, Cristiano," Bonnie addressed him.

But Elena was quick to interject, "No, it's okay. I just wanted to say hey, not interrupt anything. We'll talk later. It was nice to meet you!"

"Ditto," Cristiano said, reached for Bonnie's hand and the two got missing upstairs.

* * *

**Currently…**

The man not known for his subtlety stood before her. She didn't view his presence as a gift or a hindrance but a marker of inevitability. He wasn't here because she was, Bonnie knew that. She had unfortunately run into his reason downstairs—the drunken mess that was Elena Gilbert.

A little over two weeks ago Damon had behaved like a total fascist. She had been beyond relieved to see him, shamefully relieved to see a familiar face in a sea of strangers. That relief soon turned into betrayal the minute Damon made his intentions known that he hadn't come to check up on her. That he wasn't there expressly for her in the way she had hoped. Nope, he had shown up with the last fucker on the planet she ever wanted to see, the both of them blocking her in. Trapping her in a narrow hallway.

Set off triggers like dominos falling.

Tonight there was no narrow hallway. There was no Kai. It was just him. Damon. Staring at her unlike anyway he's looked at her in the past.

It was the little nuances his eyes feasted on. The way the wind subtly blew her now long midnight hair across her cheeks, cheeks that were full with a rose undertone, tickled the corner of her mouth that usually could be found tilted upward marked with a crescent line. Her long eyelashes fluttered and sheltered irises that were sometimes as green as blades of grass, and other times were the color of olives. In firelight they blazed hazel-green but overall were alluring, spell bounding.

Her face, Damon soon learned wasn't the only distracting thing about Bonnie. Her attire, what he could now see was a mini dress composed of cashmere fabric. Right below the scoop neckline was an inverted triangle shape of sheer material that displayed the hills of her breasts.

He swallowed and the sound echoed in his ears.

"What are you doing here, Damon?"

Those words took him back to when Bonnie first spoke them. The smile on her face, the relief in her eyes that she held back with a slightly furrowed brow. For that one moment, Damon had forgotten his purpose in leaving the quiet solitude of his home to crash a rave as he stood only feet away from her.

This time around no smile graced Bonnie's cosmetically enhanced face. She didn't appear upset or bothered just…indifferent. That made Damon blink. He had been her favorite person, her rock—an unusual position for him, and one he didn't realize how much it meant to him. But that favor lasted for a night before he deliberately sent an incendiary in the form of Kai, her tormentor, sailing right into her path.

Kai had been tongue-tied, nervous, unable to effectively articulate his remorse for hurting Bonnie while Damon had been impatient for him to spit it out, provide proof that he had changed. Of course he hadn't believed Kai was suddenly Mr. I'm Sorry because those feelings came courtesy of magically devouring his brother. They were counterfeit emotions, and the only thing Kai wanted to do was eradicate his own guilt. Point. Blank.

Standing in front of Bonnie now, someone so small in stature but with a presence that made her gargantuan and everyone around her insects, Damon could understand Kai's nervousness. Both of them had hurt Bonnie, used her. And when their assiduous plans hit brick walls and they needed a Bennett that's when they switched tactics, attempted to get on her good side. But the damage had already been done.

"_Now he wants to be nice, start over, sound familiar?" _

"Um," Damon licked his lips and darted his gaze to the intruder, though technically that was him.

He was good-looking if you were into the tall, dark, and European type, and could have been the doppelganger to soccer player Cristiano Ronaldo. They even shared the same first name, how cute Damon thought cynically. "Can you give us a minute?"

Cristiano deferred to Bonnie who hadn't looked away from Damon. "Sure," he started to leave but Bonnie held up a hand stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Wait," she turned to him finally, gracing Cristiano with a warm, beguiling smile he instantly returned. "In case I don't see you before I leave I had a really fun time tonight. Thank you for hanging out with me."

"I did as well and it was no problem. Believe me," he reached for Bonnie's hand and kissed her knuckles. Soon after he excused himself.

With Cristiano gone, the bass from the music making the floorboards jump, Damon rubbed his palms together.

"You were saying?" Bonnie folded her arms over her chest.

"Witchy," he drew out the word and cleared his throat. "Don't you have a rule against having fun at parties? I should be the one asking _you _what you're doing here."

She gave him a sly appraisal that probably would have made kings prostrate themselves at her feet. "I was invited, and I had nothing else on my schedule. I can't hide away forever, Damon. If I'm going to get used to being back then I need to get used to being around people."

"Yeah, but a party, Bonnie?"

She shrugged, "If Caroline still wants to act normal for her," Bonnie snorted, "even with her humanity off, why is it such a big damn deal for me to want to attend a party? Even if the idea of being around people makes my skin crawl? We all cope in our own messed up ways, right?"

Damon remained mute because he didn't have a good enough argument lined up, and plus he saw little point in arguing with the truth.

"And as you can see," Bonnie continued and sidled closer to Damon, "I'm not exactly partying am I?"

"You…look different," he changed the topic.

"It's what I was going for," Bonnie ran her nails through her long, sewn-in locks. "I felt it was time for an upgrade. You like?"

Of its own volition, Damon's hand was reaching out to cup her face, but he slammed his hand back to his side. He fretfully cleared his throat. "I called and left you a voicemail. Did you not get it?"

"I got it."

Damon's head jerked at the news. "So you didn't feel like returning my call, taking me up on my offer of an apology do over?"

"I figured you were calling because there was something else you wanted from me. Another favor," Bonnie pivoted in her shoes and headed over to the railing of the small terrace. "Wanting to re-apologize had merely been the bait. I wasn't falling for it," she stared at him over her shoulder, "again."

Taking one bold step for supernatural kind, Damon stepped outside joining Bonnie on the balcony that overlooked the backyard.

"I know I have a bad habit of only calling you when I need something, but this time around I just wanted to talk to you," and Damon lightly grabbed her wrist to shift Bonnie to face him. "I owe you."

She shook her head. "I'm not running a tab though I should. If I did, you and your brother would owe me hundreds of thousands of dollars. Really, the man who doesn't like apologizing what else is there for you to say? It's not going to erase what you did. And an apology at this point is more to assuage your guilt than anything else. I'm not interested in letting anyone off any hooks."

"Bonnie, I get that but I need you to realize that _I _realize that without you…"

Her warm fingers were suddenly pressed against his mouth and for one harrowing moment, Damon forgot how to think.

The hue of her irises deepened to emerald. Damon wondered if the allure he felt rising within was similar to what Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan felt toward his third wife Mumtaz Mahal, and out of that allure and deep affinity but also grief at her passing the Taj Mahal was built. If this turned into anything he was in deep shit.

"I don't want to hear from here how sorry you are," Bonnie trailed her little fingers down his jaw, neck, over the fabric of his snug T-shirt and stopped until her palm rested on his left pectoral. "I want to see from here how sorry you are. Your heart."

He couldn't control it. With Bonnie touching him and all, his nipple got hard. Matters weren't helped when she brushed the pad of her thumb across it that sent a jolt of pleasure straight for his cock.

Damon eyes widened, "Bonnie?"

The young woman in question pulled her hand away. "You should go. I'm sure Elena is looking for you."

Those words were like taking a bucket of ice water straight to the face. Just like his mother's inability to remember her name, Damon had forgotten Elena was at the party altogether.

"I'm not going unless you're coming with me," Damon asserted.

"I'll be all right."

"If this is in reference to _Cristiano, _sorry, but I doubt you know the guy all that well. What kind of a friend would I be if I left you here with some tool, who more than likely, just wants to get in your pants?"

"At least someone wants to."

Again, something unpleasant exploded in Damon's head. He was in Bonnie's face in a nanosecond. He was fairly positive he was giving her his notorious crazy eyes. "Excuse me what? Bonnie you're not…actually thinking about…_no_," he forbade sternly.

She balked, "What do you mean 'no'?"

"You're not like that."

"Not like what?"

Damon saw himself tap dancing into a room filled with landmines and mouse traps, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "You know what I mean."

"What am I not like, Damon?" the prodigious witch persisted. "Any number of females stumbling around this place hoping to get hit on by someone mildly attractive with the option of being, well maybe not fucked senseless, but close enough? I'm not a eunuch."

"I know you're not I only meant…you're not…um…"

"Go ahead and say it. I'm not like Caroline and Elena where guys trip and fall all over themselves to be with them. I may have grown up in small town Mystic Falls where pickings are slim. So are you trying to say I'm not beautiful enough…"

"Oh shut up, will you! You're beautiful!" Damon had no idea why he was yelling and getting mad but he was. "You're stunning!'—Bonnie blinked—"You're probably the most appealing woman I've ever met, and I'm sure every straight and bisexual guy here wants to bend you over the nearest table," he told himself to calm down and take a breath. For once he listened to his own advice. "Bonnie…I just don't think it's the right time for you to jump into anything."

"Who said I'm jumping into anything? I'm not going home with Cristiano because Cristiano is gay."

"Oh."

"Yes _oh_. Hayden on the other hand is not."

Bonnie watched as a vein began to bulge from the middle of Damon's forehead. A vein that hadn't been there moments ago.

Amusement lit up her entire being.

Damon questioned with a raised brow, "Who is Hayden?"

"A graduate student I met last year at a campus event right before I went bye, bye, bye. We ran into each other last week and well," she grinned saucily.

Damon's nostrils flared at the implication, "And where do you plan on going with Hayden? Matter of fact, where have you been staying?"

"I was wondering when you'd get around to grilling me on where I've been storing my broomstick," Bonnie sunk her hands in her coat pockets. Damon snorted at her joke. "After walking in on you and Elena and then Stefan and Caroline fucking that same night…" she shivered in slight revulsion, "I had nowhere to go but then I remembered."

"Remembered what?"

"Just think really hard, Damon. Where would someone go for room and board in a place like Mystic Falls that has zero hotels?" and then he watched as her eyes trailed over to the open doorway.

Damon turned and saw what held Bonnie so captivated. He felt himself about to sneer but stopped in time. The bastard filling up the threshold had to be the illustrious Hayden, insert last name. Perpetually tanned, serious features, deep set hazel eyes, five o'clock shadow and goatee, haircut low to his scalp, obviously lived at a gym.

The dark-haired vampire leaned closer to Bonnie and practically hissed, "I know you haven't been staying with him."

She gave him a funny look and walked around Damon. She sashayed over to Hayden who didn't take his eyes off of her.

"Hey, beautiful," Damon heard the guy say with a slight accent. Was he Canadian?

"Hey," Bonnie said softly. She didn't touch Hayden but he leaned down and kissed her temple.

The two men glowered at one another. With Bonnie caught in the middle she looked at Damon briefly but said to Hayden, "I'll be down in a minute. Can you wait for me?"

He winked, "You know I'm at your service."

Bonnie didn't say anything, just watched as Hayden strolled down the hallway, turned a corner, and disappeared from sight.

"Well aren't you Miss Popular tonight."

Those words were spoken closer to Bonnie's ear than she expected them to be. Facing Damon, she was unsurprised to find him towering over her. His face still twisted with anger, of which she didn't understand, and another emotion she couldn't name. Strangely she wasn't put off by Damon's misplaced anger. Quite the contrary, Bonnie found it hilarious.

"Seriously, Bonnie where have you been living for the last two weeks?"

"Use your Jedi vampire skills and find me the traditional way. Ciao."

She left in a flourish and a muscle in Damon's jaw ticked. "Flamin' witches."

Not soon after Bonnie's departure, Damon fled, manhandling a more than drunk Elena into his car that thankfully hadn't been towed. His hand strangled the steering wheel as he broke the sound barrier to reach his home after as he dumped Elena off at her dorm room ignoring her protestations and grabby hands. His mother was still up by the time he slammed the front door of the boardinghouse shut.

Damon hesitated before taking a step inside the living room. Lily was curled up on the couch flipping through a worn copy of _Call of the Wild _his favorite book.

"Damon?" Lily lowered the book to her lap. "What's the matter? You look vexed."

That's because I am, he wanted to say and knew if he did he'd have to explain why, and Damon had no appetite to go there.

"It's not important. I'm going up to bed."

"Your brother stopped by a few hours ago."

"Oh really?" Damon spat caustically. "What did he want?"

"If I had to take a guess…spoiling for a fight. He's restless which means he's fighting his humanity, and he's looking for any destructive outlet that will feed into what he believes is his true self."

Damon rolled his eyes. He wasn't in the mood to wax poetic about the nature of vampires, either. "Yeah, well next time he stops by could you, I don't know, take a switch to him or something? I'm tired. Good night."

* * *

He would be the first to say the only things he cared about were his girl, brother, if there was bourbon around, gas in the Camaro, and now his mother was added to the list. Yet some faint part of Damon hissed he was a liar and a gotdamn bad one at that. Otherwise, if the aforementioned things were his only concerns then why wasn't he sleeping? Why was he staring up the ceiling thinking about tonight, his conversation with Bonnie, and why he felt compelled to see what she was doing?

Damon was up and dressed with his keys in his hand. It wasn't until he was opening the door to his car and climbing behind the wheel that he paused and frowned.

Was he really going to do as Bonnie said and blow the dust off his tracking skills to find her? His cranked engine pretty much solved that mystery.

Mentally, Damon began the process of elimination to find the little witch. Whitmore was out. He didn't think Bonnie would want to live with Tyler and Matt. He knew her old home had been put up for sale; her grandmother's house had been sold a long time ago. The Gilbert's place was ash, and Bonnie was right, Mystic Falls didn't have any hotels, not upscale ones. However, if someone from out-of-town was looking for a fairly decent place to lay their head, they would be directed to the B&amp;B run by that old senile spinster Ms. Flowers.

Fifteen minutes later, Damon parked across the street from the Tudor style house. It had been given a fresh coat of paint from the last time he dabbled on this side of town. New flowerbeds, the lawn expertly mowed. Every single light was turned off, but that didn't stop Damon from listening.

He climbed out of his car, inhaled deeply and caught Bonnie's scent. Damon vamp sped to the B&amp;B, spotted Bonnie's car parked in the graveled lot with four other vehicles, but that didn't mean she was actually locked away in one of the rooms. She could still be with Hayden. At least he knew where he could find her, and that she was relatively safe. Not much of anything happened in this area.

Just as he made the decision to leave before he started feeling stupid, Damon took a single step when his ear caught the distinct sound of bedsprings groaning immediately followed by the sound of a moan.

The timbre of the moan was not alien to Damon. He'd heard it before. Several times whenever he cooked something Bonnie didn't automatically say sucked or she hated. Damon ordered his feet to keep moving, and his mind not to even go there. What she did was her business and none of his concern, but the snooper in him couldn't resist. Plus this was possibly one of those rare instances where he wanted to be proven _wrong. _

So he found himself creeping to the opposite side of the B&amp;B, head craning backwards eyeing a partially open window on the second floor. There was no tree nearby for him to climb, and technically he didn't need an invitation to get inside the hostel. That meant he could break in, and pray he didn't set off an alarm.

Damon remembered vampires had amazing abilities, could do things with their bodies that defied gravity. It would definitely be, in his case, mind over matter to crawl up the side of the house, or jump up to the roof and then scale down. Would that be doing too much?

Fuck it, Damon shrugged. If anyone saw him they'd confuse him with a man-sized lizard as he scuttled up the siding of the house making nary a sound to startle the sleeping visitors.

He paused outside of that partially open window thankful there was enough darkness around to conceal he was being an unapologetic Peeping Tom. He looked over the sill.

Damon almost fell backwards.

Bonnie was there. She wasn't alone. She had just tossed her newly acquired long hair while her hips moved in a fashion that made it no secret as to what she was doing.

Her naked back was to him, naturally. The bedsheet dipped down low enough for him to see the dimples above her plump ass. And when he saw the globe of her backside, blood rushed straight to his head. The smaller one.

Seeing enough, Damon jumped down and blinked several times to erase what he saw, but of course that only seemed to make those images enlarge in his brain. He sprinted, ready to bolt but remembered he had driven.

He was in his car burning rubber down the road uncaring if he woke everyone up.

* * *

Spent and smiling, Bonnie kissed Hayden's forehead. He was sound asleep. His breath occasionally tickled her fevered skin. Lithe fingers swooped across his face that he didn't feel nor detected something had happened.

Bonnie critiqued what she had done. Hayden's chestnut hair had lengthened to inky black strands that covered his forehead and almost touched his shoulders. His eyelashes now fanned against pale white cheeks. His nose became less button and more aristocratic, lips curled into an ironical twist and were now rose in color.

Hayden's eyes momentarily opened before sealing shut once more, but it had been enough of a peek for Bonnie to catch a glimpse of glacial blue.

Settling deeper into the mattress she sighed and went to sleep.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Bonnie up to some mischief? If any were curious about who I imagined to play the parts of Cristiano and Hayden, I indeed used soccer player Cristiano Ronaldo for Cristiano, and channeled Taylor Kitsch for Hayden. If you want more, let me know. Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: For now I'm tentatively continuing this. Chapter 2 wasn't a true ending, but I felt I couldn't add more because of ongoing stories with conflicting story lines, didn't want to end up telling the same story twice. So as I said, I'm tentatively continuing this because as usual the badass Bonnie SL JP was going on about she failed to deliver. This is me correcting that. But thank you to everyone who reviewed!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith/CW. All OC's are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

A log cracked in the hearth, its grooves burned bright blood-orange. The heat from the fire warmed her tepid skin while the light emitted a soft glow casting objects into shadow. She felt partly entranced by the dancing flames, sparks shooting from the fiery tips like pale yellow moonbeams. Yet her mind, her entire being was focused on the vampire pacing from one end of the floorboards to the other.

"Look I understand it's your mother and her staying away hurt you far more than you're willing to admit, but Damon, come on."

"Come on, what, Elena? I have a million problems on my plate right now all vying for my attention. I don't have _time_ to sit down and break bread with this chick when I have a brother who is one artery away from being a ripper once again. She said she's not going to help me with Stefan so I'm not going to indulge her Little House on the Prairie fantasy about the three of us having dinner."

Elena sighed and mentally flipped to the next item on the script she could use to get Damon to see reason. "Have you stopped to consider that you're lucky?"

Damon rolled his eyes already foreseeing where this was going. He shook his head. "Do you remember what it was like meeting Isobel for the first time and how much of a crushing disappointment she was?" he waited for her to answer. Elena merely compressed her lips together. "Mine is like that but maybe a thousand times worse because my mother is more concerned about her family of mummies than she is with her own living sons."

"But _maybe_," Elena stressed, "if we sat down together and have dinner you can air out your grievances, put the past behind you, and move forward. We all need to get to know each other."

Damon scoffed hard at that. "The only forward Lillian Salvatore is interested in…is freeing her family into _this _world." He inhaled an unnecessary breath and stared at Elena. What he wanted to add was: I made a promise to Bonnie that we weren't going back and they weren't getting out. I can't break that promise.

"I can understand but at the same time don't on why you won't compromise on this. She's not asking for an organ or a ridiculous sum of money. She just wants to sit down and have dinner. I want her to like me, Damon. And this may seem pointless, but I want her to approve of our relationship."

Perhaps if he told his meddling girlfriend that his mother could scarcely remember her name maybe she'd change her tune. Then again, that would probably be extra motivation for Elena to see this dinner come to fruition because if it was one thing she couldn't abide by it was someone treating her with indifference.

Damon, in the far recesses of his brain could admit to still being a tiny bit salty that Elena inserted herself on the trip to the 1903 prison world. Whether she had been joking about her outfit being "time appropriate" or not did little to ease Damon's nerves about seeing his mother for the first time since he had been seventeen. He hated being seen as anything less than formidable, and though vulnerability couldn't be helped at times, Damon liked to handpick those times. In short, he hadn't wanted Elena to tag along.

His sodium levels continued to rise when Elena mistakenly gushed over Stefan's baby picture thinking it was him, and his head nearly exploded when she made the comment of "meeting the mother of my two epic loves". The _fuck_? It may have been true but didn't need to be said. Damon had ignored it, excused it because he had an agenda—get Bonnie her revenge, get Lily and get out.

They were out now and Elena appeared to be more concerned with making a good impression on a woman who could give a rat's ass about her, and not the emotional turmoil it was doing to him though he was doing an excellent job of concealing it.

At that moment Damon wanted to talk to Bonnie. She had a sharp way of simplifying a situation that the answer almost seemed trite. But he hadn't seen or talked to Bonnie since spying on her at the B&amp;B and caught her literally in action.

Even now the memory of that was engraved and it…it irritated Damon but for the love of him he didn't know why. If she were happy as her friend he should be happy for her. That was pragmatic thinking at its finest. However, he wasn't happy and it annoyed him that he wasn't because he didn't understand why he wasn't.

All right so maybe having her undivided time and attention for four months spoiled him. The both of them being back in their rightful world during their rightful time meant the reinstatement of living separate lives. Joking about getting away from each other to talk to other people had been all fine and good when it had been them against the vacant world. Now that they were in essence doing it…Damon missed those days and nights where it was just the two of them, getting on each other's nerves, being all the other had.

But there was another reason he wanted to talk to Bonnie and it entailed that dastardly cure. That was still one of Damon's top secrets and the person he should have been informing was standing next to the fireplace in her dorm room.

It had been three weeks already and Damon's jaws were on maximum security lockdown. Bonnie had given him the cure and left it up to him on what to do with it. Whatever he did…was none of her business according to Bonnie. He stared down at his hand, the one she touched and the one that had held the small ornate chest holding the erasure of immortality. Damon had wanted her counsel then and he could sure as hell use it now.

Bonnie had assumed he wanted to get the cure for Elena, but she had gotten it all wrong. No. Damon's lips flattened into a hard line. His intent was to get the cure for himself. The only soul on the planet who knew he missed being human—well that individual was dead via his fangs. Becoming a vampire had been motivated by loving a vampire, not something he expressly wanted for himself. Turning had been about delivering a lifetime of misery to Stefan. Once again it had nothing to do with the perks, and it certainly hadn't been about blood becoming his food of choice. Damon wanted his humanity back plain and simple.

Yet…perhaps he saw being a vampire as penance for failing everyone he had given a damn about. Death would have been too easy.

Damon had seen no point in correcting Bonnie's assumption. Wasn't Elena the bottom line for everything he did? At least that was the general consensus.

As he snapped out of his thoughts he realized Elena was still yapping at the mouth. He grabbed her by the arms to shut her ass up. "All right, fine!" he said. "If I can sit down and eat an Original out of house and home it won't kill me to have a nice, lovely meal with the woman who ejected me out of her uterus."

Elena grimaced a bit at the imagery that sentiment sparked, but lit up triumphantly the next second as she wrapped her arms around Damon's neck. She kissed him as an added bonus for bending when she knew he hated compromise. Or rather…learned that through the grapevine since her memories of him were still in protective custody.

"You won't have to do anything but show up," Elena vowed. "It'll be a nice, beautiful evening, and painless."

"I hope," Damon muttered dryly. "I need to go. I can't leave Lily on her own for too long. I haven't finished child proofing the house."

Elena smacked him playfully on the arm and kissed Damon deeply, implanting smaller kisses on his jaw and neck.

He pulled away, "You keep that up and I won't leave this room."

The doppelganger smiled lazily and was tempted to detain Damon for a little while longer knowing it would be worth bought of their while. But she didn't. She wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of leaving his mother isolated and alone for long periods of time, either. Things happened to those who grew curious.

"All right," she groaned and walked him the short distance to the door, holding his hand and temporarily laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm missing you already."

"Me, too," he said and dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and promptly left her room.

Damon may have journeyed all of seven feet from Elena's door when he heard the unmistakable sound of Bonnie's voice. His steps slowed and then he decided to linger and wait for her to make it up to the second floor. Leaning his back on the wall, Damon crossed his arms.

Bonnie's distinctive voice soothed his eardrums. "I've been wanting to see that for the longest but finding someone to go with me has been hard."

"Well, I'm available to hang out, chill, check out a flick, whatever. Just hit me up."

"I'll remember that. Thanks, Austin."

The twosome had arrived on the second floor. Bonnie's head was turned in the direction of her associate who smiled at her. Damon lifted a brow. Bonnie had been speaking with a girl who was into the androgynous look. Her raven hair was cut into a page boy style. The sleeves to her button down were rolled to her elbows showing that her forearms were completely covered in tattoos. But she was hot, Damon couldn't deny.

The two girls went their separate ways, Austin headed to the left, Bonnie to the right who jumped at seeing Damon.

"Hey," Bonnie's heart boomed in her chest.

"Hello, stranger," he exaggerated the pronunciation of the word 'stranger'.

"Stranger?"

"Did I stutter? I haven't seen you in almost two weeks. You've seem to have forgotten where I live and my phone number."

Bonnie adjusted her hold on her rolling suitcase. "I can say the same thing about you, Damon."

"Ah, but my address hasn't changed. _Yours _has."

"And you mean to tell me that your nosy ass hasn't sniffed out where I now store my broom?"

Damon chuckled and wagged a finger at Bonnie. "I will neither confirm nor deny anything. I've been trying to do the polite thing and give you space."

"Wouldn't you say I've already had months of space?" the green-eyed young woman hinted.

"I would, but something tells me that a part of you has gotten used to the solitude, and prefer it over being surrounded by people who don't know when to shut up."

"How very astute of you, Damon," Bonnie began rolling her suitcase behind her as she walked down the hall to her dorm room.

Damon fell in step beside her, "Moving back in?"

Bonnie shook her head. "Just here to collect more of my stuff."

Dark brows furrowed, Damon unconsciously pouted, "Don't you think moving out and into the B&amp;B is a bit extreme?"

Bonnie halted and turned to face the skulking vampire. "What I find extreme is picking up as if everything is the same. My first year as a college student was spent being a corporeal ghost slash anchor. Most of my sophomore year was spent being trapped in a prison world reliving the same day for months. I want…I want a fresh start. And I want this fresh start far from Whitmore."

Bonnie continued on to her soon-to-be "old" dorm room. Damon didn't follow. He chewed on her words, digested them and came to the conclusion he didn't like the taste.

"Walk with me outside," Damon petitioned.

Bonnie's hand hovered over the knob and she brought her gaze to Damon. "Why?"

He stared pointedly at the door she was two seconds from opening and then tilted his head in the vague direction of the exit.

Huffing, Bonnie left her suitcase right there and hoped no one would steal it. She and Damon left the residential building, trekked across the parking lot to his vehicle.

"What is it, Damon?"

Suddenly he felt foolish but here was his opportunity to talk to Bonnie. "First…how have you been?"

"Good. What about you?"

"Good," he growled slightly earning a small smile from the witch. "Good as can be expected when you have a rogue brother on the loose, and a mother who I can tell is getting impatient. Other than that…life is peachy king."

"How is the situation with Lily coming along? Is she still on about releasing her family?"

"She hasn't mentioned it but I can tell it's heavily on her mind. Listen just try to keep your guard up. Lily…she may seem calm and amiable but there's no telling how long her composure will last, and what lengths she's prepared to go to get what she wants."

"A trait shared among Salvatores," Bonnie quipped.

Damon didn't even try to dispute that.

She appraised Damon and could tell this warning about his mother was nothing more than a smokescreen. There was something else he wanted to talk to her about but didn't want to come clean. "What did you _really _want to talk to me about, Damon? No, let me guess. The cure. You still haven't told Elena and I know because she hasn't talked my ear off about it."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Like your eyes when the sun hits them directly."

Said eyes widened and Bonnie had the grace to stare down at her feet. She wasn't supposed to notice things like that about him nor speak them aloud.

Bonnie sidled next to Damon leaning her butt against the passenger side door of his car. "You're scared that if she takes the cure, becomes human, she'll be on the first train smoking back to Stefan. I can…understand your hesitation about the whole thing, but have you stopped to question what _you _want out of this?"

"It's not about me," he hunched a shoulder.

"Let's pretend it is. If Elena becomes human again where is that going to leave you? Have you thought about that?"

"I have."

"And that's why you haven't told her because you're so sure of the outcome. Your relationship started because of a sire bond, don't hold on to her because of immortality."

Damon waited a beat before saying inaudibly, "What if I want to take the cure?"

Bonnie strained to hear and when his words computed she jolted away from the car and stood in front of the blue-eyed vampire who was doing everything in the world to avoid looking at her.

She impulsively grabbed Damon's chin and jerked his head up leaving him no choice but to see her. The earnestness of his words radiated from a place hardly accessed by anyone let alone Damon himself. She couldn't explain the knots forming in her belly or why hearing him say he wanted to take the cure…excited her beyond imagining but shock usurped everything else.

"You mean that?" Bonnie wanted clarification.

Damon grabbed the hand that held his chin in a vise and slowly peeled it off, but didn't release her limb. His lips parted to give confirmation but at the least second old pride reared its head. "Mean what?"

Bonnie blinked. "You said…"

"The cure can wait a little while longer. Pacifying Mother Dearest and convincing Hodor,"—Bonnie snickered—"to switch on his humanity…takes precedence. Thanks for the talk. I'll see you later, Bon."

"Damon."

She was ignored and stepped out of the way as Damon clamored behind the wheel, started the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

His face was caught in a web of silky flaxen hair. Stefan spit out a few strands before abruptly brushing it aside. There was a weight pressing on his chest and when he looked down he could only make out the forehead and tip of the nose of the chick using him as a pillow. With one eye barely open, the other still shut, Stefan blindly reached for his cell phone and that's when he noticed he was sleeping on the floor. Luckily his pants were right by his head and he dug through them for his phone.

He groaned. It was barely eight in the fucking morning and he was already up. How was that even possible when he was sure he hadn't crashed until five a.m.?

Stefan nudged the woman off him and ogled her tits. Nice, he smirked but her face was not the blonde he had assumed it would be. Her upper torso was speckled with blood and peppered with bite marks. Her neck was especially nasty looking; her flesh ripped near savagely.

Had she bled out, Stefan wondered and checked for a pulse. She still had one but it was extremely faint. He shrugged and figured the humane thing to do would be not to let her last remaining drops go to waste. Picking up the woman's wrist, he sank his fangs into her near depleted veins and drained whatever was left.

At that time the bathroom door flew open and there in the threshold stood a very naked Caroline Forbes running a towel through her hair. Stefan's eyes widened in appreciation and the wrist in his mouth fell limply back to the floor.

"Good you're up," she began without taking her eyes off her reflection. "You're on clean up duty since I got rid of that guy whose neck you snapped."

What guy? Stefan wondered and then it came back to him. "He spilled his drink on my boots."

Caroline laughed dryly and whipped around to face Stefan. She glanced at the dead girl sprawled out beside him. Vampire Barbie was pretty sure they shared a class…Fundamentals of Speech. Whoops, guess she wouldn't be doing her presentation this Wednesday.

Her assessing gaze then lowered to a very noticeable stain, a bloom of dark color marring rich lavender cotton. "Ugh, she ruined my duvet," she complained. "I just bought that."

Stefan leaned back on his elbows in all his naked glory and felt the familiar twitch of arousal in his cock that was slowly lengthening. "I'm loaded. I can buy you a new one. Though stealing one would be more fun."

Caroline shrugged. She didn't care either way so long as it got replaced. She hung her towel back on the rack and reached for her bra. A breeze fluttered the still wet strands of her hair and lips were adhered to her neck laying siege to it.

"Why are you up so early? I thought we could play with our toy a little longer," Stefan spoke huskily into Caroline's ear. "Granted she's already dead but she has other uses."

"You thought wrong. I have things to do today."

"Like what?"

"_Things_," Caroline exasperated and maneuvered her neck out of Stefan's mouth. She picked up her panties and slid them on.

He glared for a second but then thrust his hips forward, dick poking her in the crack of her imaginary ass. "You mean to tell me you're passing up the chance to feel that again."

"I'm all about delayed gratification at the moment. I'll see you…when I see you," she said dismissively cold.

Stefan snorted and then retraced his steps back into the room where he quickly dressed. He spared the dead coed one final look and promptly left.

Caroline stomped out of the bathroom vexed he was leaving her to clean up yet another one of his messes. "You little bastard! Come get rid of this body, Stefan!" she yelled loud enough for him to hear but no one else.

Stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, Stefan wandered around the vacant campus, breathing in the cold, dry air. He was tired, cranky, and hard as a brick with no one to help him alleviate his affliction. Going home was the last thing Stefan wanted to do. With his mom and Damon loitering around the place not to mention the self-centered doppelganger, hell no going home was out of the question. Caroline was acting on some bullshit. What did she have to do so early in the freaking morning that couldn't be postponed for a fuck?

Was it really so hard to find someone to break the rules with who didn't care about behaving like her life was an episode of _Glee? _

Feeling a brush of irritation, Stefan unconsciously drew his shoulders inward. This of course threw the myth into question whether or not a humanity switch even existed in vampires if a vampire could still in a sense feel other emotions outside of compassion, mercy, sympathy. Being completely emotionless meant nothing should piss me off, Stefan considered. Point blank, I certainly should not give a shit, he concluded.

A flicker that he did resided in him and Stefan wanted it gone.

He hopped in his car and drove back to Mystic Falls blasting Bon Jovi the entire way.

By mid-afternoon Stefan was freshly showered, changed, and whistling as he entered Mystic Grill. His whistling came to an abrupt halt when he saw someone he hadn't really seen since she came back.

Her back was to him but there would never be any mistaking the set of her shoulders, or mostly in particular—her scent. A scent that inspired daydreams about sinking his fangs into her pretty little neck. Stefan pretty much knew he'd never get the chance. He had tasted her blood, but it mounted to being just that. A taste. A taste he had to split between himself, his brother, and the hybrid.

Stefan "appeared" at her table, helping himself to a seat. Bonnie Bennett didn't jump, grab her heart, didn't even look up from the hot plate of food she was spearing her fork through.

His head tilted to the side while he watched her eat. "Hello, Bonnie."

"Stefan."

"I'm not surprised to see you."

"Hmm."

"Not in the mood to converse."

"Not really."

Stefan chuckled. Bonnie finally lifted her head and stared at him. "You look good. Being locked in a prison world and a failed suicide has improved," his eyes salaciously roamed over her person, "your assets."

A glint darkened the hue of Bonnie's irises yet she said nothing. "Let's not do this, Stefan. Let's not trade barbs while we attempt to illicit an emotional response out of one another. I'm not one."

"Why not? It's fun."

"Perhaps it is, but I've had my fill of sociopaths."

Leaning back in his chair drumming his fingers on the table, Stefan smirked almost eerily similar to Damon. He sat forward again and placed his elbows on the table, "What was it like? Being over there?"

Bonnie mimicked his movement, "You really want to know?" He nodded. Pausing for effect, she finally answered. "It was like… being thrown into a safe and that safe being pitched over a cliff into a quarry," Bonnie's eyes narrowed deliberately. "It was like drowning every single day for three months straight; waking up and realizing you're still trapped in a locked iron box unable to break free, unable to take a breath despite not needing to breathe.

"It's like being lucid long enough to hope someone will rescue you only to realize that no one has any idea where you are, and no one cares. It was like feeling water rush into your lungs and airways suffocating you until you lose consciousness and hallucinate about being freed. You dream about being on dry land and in the arms of the person you love who couldn't wait forty-eight hours before christening their new relationship with your sibling. _That's _what it was like."

Other than the sound of conversations, the clank of silverware on plates, and the shuffling of feet as the servers raced from one table to another it was deathly quiet between the vampire and the witch.

Ideally Bonnie could have provided a dramatization of what Stefan had gone through locked in that safe the same way she showed Damon what her time alone with Kai had been like. But from the green pallor overtaking Stefan's skin and the tenseness of his jaw…he was already reliving that experience.

The memories snuck up and gnawed at Stefan like a flesh eating bacteria. For one harrowing moment he swore he felt lake water flooding his nostrils, esophagus, filling his lungs drowning him once again. He flirted with having shortness of breath and balled his hand into a fist trying to master his emotions.

Stefan smiled through his discomfort. "I see someone has finally learned not to pull any punches."

"As the kids say these days, just keeping it one hundred."

"And as T-Pain said, let me buy you a drink," he winked and headed over to the bar, his gait stiff.

Bonnie's hands shook and she dropped her fork and placed her trembling limbs in her lap while she inhaled and exhaled. The silverware on the tabletop rattled and Bonnie slapped a hand over them to cease their shaking.

Much too soon, Stefan dropped his weight back on the chair startling Bonnie slightly. He filled one glass with bourbon and slid it over to her prior to filling a glass for himself. She hardly waited a minute before chugging it back and thrusting her glass for another. Maybe she adopted more habits from Damon than she realized.

Thinking about Damon and dealing with his brother was not how she envisioned spending her afternoon.

A peculiar scent began to waft from the witch, and Stefan tried not to smile too broadly. She was nervous around him, as she should be, but naturally was opting to hide that behind misplaced bravado. Though hurting Bonnie would get his brother riled up. Stefan sipped his bourbon slowly—contemplating.

As if reading his mind, Bonnie said, "Heads or tails?"

"What do you mean?"

"Stay on my good side and you'll never have to find out."

Collecting her handbag, Bonnie rose from the table with the sound of Stefan's laughter trailing behind her.

* * *

The following night Bonnie's toes and feet were being massaged by a very strong pair of hands. Lying curled up on her side on the carpet at Hayden's modest two bedroom apartment he shared with his best friend, she giggled.

Being around him was grotesquely simple and easy. She didn't have to be a witch or have all the answers, be a shoulder to lean on, or someone's moral compass. She could just be…Bonnie Bennett a young woman finally living her life.

Despite Hayden's masterful skills in turning her muscles into putty with his angelic touch, her thoughts were a perpetual sea-tossed boat. Damon tried to play her the other night which was nothing new. She knew she heard him say that he wanted to take the cure.

Did he want to take the cure to be human with Elena and give her the life her friend wrote tirelessly about in her journal? Did he want to be human because he had simply outgrown being a vampire? Was it all of the above?

Why do you even care, Bonnie, she groused. Damon is your friend but he's not your problem. You don't have to tell him it's okay to give up a lifestyle he's lived far longer than he's spent being human. He's going to have to step into his big boy boxers and decide that for himself.

She knew this and somehow couldn't override feeling responsible. After all, she was the one to give him the cure. She was the one to place that meaty decision in the palm of his hand, and left him to it knowing how he felt about the cure since they learned of its existence. Yet that had been before Damon dropped a bomb on her that he longed to be human.

"Bonnie, where are you?"

Hayden's voice lassoed her back into the moment.

"Sorry," she gifted Hayden with a conciliatory smile.

Hayden released her foot and prowled over to Bonnie on his hands and knees, covering her with his muscular frame. She rolled to lie flat on her back, legs spreading to accommodate Hayden's weight. He was human, single, interested in her; _more _than interested in her by the erection he was sporting, but…

Bonnie threaded her fingers through his hair silencing her misgivings. "Kiss me."

Hayden did as he was ordered, hungrily slanting his mouth over hers. His hands explored Bonnie's terrain, groping her breasts, sliding between their bodies to cup her sex through layers of fabric.

"Are you happy, Hayden?" Bonnie questioned huskily when they broke to intake a much needed breath.

"In general or right now?"

"In general. I can _feel_ how happy you are." They both shared a chuckle.

Hayden stared down in Bonnie's celadon irises. "I don't have much to complain about. In general I'm pretty content. But I think everyone wants to be happier than what they are. Blinding happiness I feel happens in periodic bursts. It happens during certain moments and can last for hours or be over in seconds. Right now…I'm a happy guy. What about you? Are you happy?"

Bonnie trailed her fingers over Hayden's jaw. Her answer came swift and cracked like thunder. _No, _she wasn't happy.

Something just didn't feel right.

"I guess I'm like you. I'm content," she lied and brought Hayden's head down to hers, kissing him and wanting to dissolve into this man in ways that would erase the niggling feeling tightening the muscles in her neck.

At some point they transitioned from the living room floor to Hayden's canopy bed, christening his new sheets. Passing out from erotic exertion, glowing and warm, Bonnie sailed into the land of unconsciousness…

…Crystals in the chandelier quaked with each step he took as he surveyed the damage. Bodies on the ground, some of them unconscious and helpless (most of them his coven members whose powers he was going to take great joy in siphoning). He had to wait though. He promised chow to his new besties and they were not the sort you reneged on. The rest of his captive and terror-filled audience were moving slightly and attempting to belly crawl their way to freedom.

Arms stretched out to either side, Kai Parker closed his eyes and began waving those same arms as if conducting an orchestra. Five, six, seven, eight. Pieces of wood paneling from the barn began to groan, bend separating from the foundation, and once free flew through the air at terrifyingly fast speeds. Two people were impaled, and landed with a bone crushing thud on the rough-hewn floor.

Stefan yanked Caroline down and covered her with his body once wood started flying. Tears and mascara tracked lines down her cheeks.

"Don't move," he hissed.

Ah, no kidding.

Crouched, Damon frantically switched his gaze from the crazy little shit (whose head he was so _totally _gonna rip from his shoulders), to an unconscious Elena. He listened with everything he had for her heartbeat. It was beating but slowly, slower than it should be.

"_KAI!"_ Damon snarled.

"I'll be with you in a minute, honey," the warlock crooned.

Kai concentrated on one area in particular, drawing his hands together as if he were holding a baseball bat, moved his arms in an arc like he were swinging at a ball, and three people who were running toward the exit, were suddenly catapulted up to the roof, their skulls making fatal contact with the wood beams.

Seeing his opening, Damon rose to his feet with the intent of speeding over to Kai, but of course he didn't make it. Didn't even come close to taking one step.

A vise gripped Damon, pinning his arms to his side. His feet cleared the floor and he was levitating only…whatever telekinetic force held him suspended began to curl around his neck strangling him, which even for a vampire was still unpleasant as all hell.

"I thought," Kai began his oration, "you would have learned by now that you can't beat me, Damon."

Alaric who was using his hands to try to staunch Jo's bleeding abdomen growled, "How did you get out?"

"Oh, hey my _almost _brother-in-law…one word: loophole." Kai's eyes shifted ever so slightly in her direction. He smiled. "My delicious _BonBon _stick around for the grand finale. It's going to literally steal. Your. Breath."

Bonnie jolted up in bed, forehead peppered with sweat. Her heart which had already been beating abnormally fast…it stuttered and then resumed its frantic beat.

Nightmare…dream…premonition…no nightmare, Bonnie's erratic mind ruled and licked her dry lips.

There was a body cushioned beside her and when she whipped her head in the person's direction…

She let out the breath she had been holding. It was Hayden. That nightmare—it felt too real. Bonnie hoped it was a nightmare and not a vision of things to come. But…and this was the real chilling thing. Her dreams sometimes became a reality. She dreamt about Emily who began haunting her and later possessed her. Dreamt about Klaus attacking her and throwing her into a coffin where a woman showed up who turned out to be her mother. Now she was dreaming about Kai! Kai getting out. Kai discovering a loophole. But what loophole could he have been talking about?

He needed Bennett blood to make the ascendant work, and he was fresh out. Pushing the covers off, Bonnie attempted to roll out of bed, but then Hayden reached for her.

"Hey," he muttered groggily. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," she leaned over and planted a swift kiss on his cheek.

Bonnie needed room to think, room to analyze. Shuffling to the bathroom, she flicked on the light which her eyes protested greatly at its brilliance. Bonnie braced her quivering hands on the porcelain sink, head down, chin nearly touching her chest.

She didn't want to think about Kai getting out. She didn't want to think about seeing him ever again, but witches and warlocks always had one remaining trick up their sleeve. There were something's which were absolute and plenty more things that weren't. If he got out he'd want blood, gore, revenge and not necessarily in that order, and most assuredly he'd start with her.

A trembling hand covered her belly, fingers seeking out the scar left by the arrow he shot into her. A few inches under that was another scar, the landmark of where he buried a ten inch hunting knife into her guts.

Bonnie's eyes pierced closed as a wave of hot tears were released from her ducts. The lights in the bathroom flickered and the sink faucet and shower blasted on. A crack splintered the mirror and a set of shelves hanging over the toilet were knocked loose and crashed, the contents spilling everywhere.

"Bonnie?"

She reacted, arm thrusting out and before she could stop herself, Bonnie sent a pulse of energy at the intruder. A bundle of arms and legs went careening into the bedroom wall and landed with a horrible sounding thud on the floor.

"Ohmygod," Bonnie lamented when she snapped out of it and realized what she had done; that she had turned her magic on Hayden.

He was slowly propping himself up as she ran out into the bedroom. Hayden instantly looked weary and terrified as he furiously blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He winced and grabbed a hold of his right shoulder that pretty much took the brunt of the fall.

Bonnie kneeled down beside him, "I'm so sorry."

"What the fuck are you?"

"Hayden, let me take a look."

"Stay away from me."

"Hayden please."

Bonnie reached for him, but he dodged her outstretched hands and managed to get to his feet.

"I don't know what the hell is going on or how you pushed me without touching me…you need to…" Hayden rotated his shoulder. A spike of pain had him biting into his lower lip. "Gotdamn," he cursed softly. "I need to go the hospital."

Getting to her feet, Bonnie twisted her fingers. Her secret was exposed and yes she had inadvertently injured Hayden but that wasn't her main concern.

"I'm sorry but I can't have you telling anyone what happened tonight," Bonnie whispered and grabbed a hold of Hayden and turned him around to face her where she then leaned on her toes and kissed his snarling mouth.

He was on the ground in five seconds after she pulled away. Bonnie calmly walked to her purse to retrieve her cell phone.

The doorbell sounded ominous when it rang ten minutes later. Thankful Hayden's roommate was cohabitating for the weekend with his girlfriend that was one less person she'd have to have handled.

Bonnie opened the door.

"Your anti-hero is here," smirked Damon Salvatore.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are love. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It's a wonderful time to be a Bamon shipper. Thank you for your continued support while I bang out this story.**

* * *

"I'm catching a draft out here, witchy are you going to invite me in or not?"

"Get in here, Damon."

The vampire extended a leg over the threshold quickly followed by the other and used the heel of his boot to shut the front door. Damon took a cursory glance around the apartment. It was sparsely furnished in the "broke college kid" style that was wildly popular with those establishing their independence from mommy and daddy.

He trailed behind Bonnie as she led the way through the darkened interior to a bedroom located on the left side of the hallway.

To his disappointment he could still hear the boy's heartbeat. The light from the bathroom spilled into the bedroom. When Damon took a peek inside, he saw the turned over shelf, the broken mirror, the contents on the floor. He snapped his gaze to Bonnie.

His mind began firing off questions. Had she and this dude gotten into a physical altercation? If so…Damon would take great joy in finishing whatever Bonnie started.

He cracked his knuckles. "You need me to take him out?"

"No, I need you to compel him."

Damon's shoulders slumped. "What? That's it? You need me to compel him?"

"Yes," Bonnie replied plaintively.

"You could have called Elena for that."

Bonnie did a combination of sighing and sucking her teeth. "Are you going to help me or not, Damon? This is your one shot to redeem being an asshole to me two weeks ago."

He held up his hands to simmer down Bonnie's impatience. "I've tried to apologize for that." She glared, Damon moved on. "You were skimpy on the details, but I thought you were calling me over here to get rid of a body. What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I was the one to hurt him. I need the last hour erased from his memory. The only thing Hayden needs to remember is the explosive sex the two of us had. Not the fact I used magic on him."

A severe grimace twisted Damon's face into something downright demonic. He was used to compelling people to be still, don't scream, get good grades, leave his alcohol alone. He was not versed in the art of planting the idea of someone having explosive sex into their brains especially if the sex hadn't been with him.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to kill him?" he tried for compromise.

"Damon," Bonnie reproached.

"I need to know what he did in order for you to turn your magic on him. You don't use magic for petty reasons."

Bonnie crossed her arms and moistened her bottom lip. "It was an accident. I had…I had a nightmare about Kai and it triggered…I lost control of my powers and Hayden surprised me," she rushed to explain. "I sent him careening into a wall and well…he was scared and wanted to go to a hospital. If he goes to the hospital he can tell what happened."

"And who would believe him?"

"That's not the point. I don't want Hayden to be afraid of me."

"If you like this guy, why not just tell him what you are?" Damon shrugged nonchalantly though that was the last thing he actually wanted Bonnie to do.

"Because…chances are fifty-fifty," she elucidated. "Either he won't believe me or he does _after _I show him I'm telling the truth and he's scared of me and dumps me. Damon…I don't have too many good things in my life right now, but," she stared at her unconscious lover, "Hayden helps me in his own way and for once I'm being selfish. I don't want to give that up."

That was a point Damon understood all too well. Nevertheless, concern furrowed his brow and he moved closer to Bonnie who dodged him.

He tried not to let it bother him. "You had a nightmare about Kai?"

Bonnie had had a couple of nightmares in the prison world either whispering Silas' name or Klaus'. Damon never got out of his bed to check on her knowing or at least assuming Bonnie wouldn't like it. Nevertheless, during those nights he wouldn't go back to sleep until she was calm and her breathing evened out suggesting she had fallen asleep once more.

He could understand Bonnie losing control of her powers because of dreaming about Kai. Out of the many assholes they fought, no one had come close to destroying Bonnie like he did. She was like a war-torn country trying to rebuild itself after being heavily bombed and riddled with bullets.

Damon certainly wanted nothing to hinder that.

"I'm fine," Bonnie cut him off before he could ask. "We just need to deal with Hayden."

"And then we're going to deal with you."

The two held challenging stares. "Fine," Bonnie broke first. "But not tonight."

Damon opened his mouth to rebut, but then his attention was drawn to the guy stretched out on the floor who was slowly regaining consciousness.

Sighing, the blue-eyed vampire moved into action, stepping over Hayden and slapping him twice on the cheek. He earned a groan for his efforts and an eye roll from Bonnie who otherwise remained silent and let Damon do what vampires did best.

"Hey…hey," Damon said and snapped his fingers in front of Hayden's face. The human blinked up at him, brow crumpled in confusion and before he could utter a single oath about who the hell was he, Damon stretched out his will and incorporated it into Hayden's, lowering his defenses, making his inhibition malleable. "Dude…you had an _awesome _night…."

A few minutes later and a freshly compelled Hayden, Bonnie found herself walking with Damon to his car. This brought a sense of déjà vu.

"Thank you," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Don't mention it. Now about this nightmare."

"Damon, I said not tonight."

"I _know_ you, Bonnie. You like to deflect when you feel vulnerable. Trust me, I know all about that. Dreaming about Kai in any capacity would be cause for concern, but being what and who you are, your dreams aren't usually _just_ dreams. So I need you to be real with me. What happened in your nightmare?" Damon waited for her to respond. She didn't. "You need to tell me while it's still fresh in your mind."

Stubbornness held Bonnie's tongue captive, but a raised brow from Damon and a determined glint told her he was prepared to use whatever measures necessary to dig the truth out of her.

Bonnie diverted her gaze to a car pulling out of the complex.

For one second Damon allowed himself to be distracted. He smelled faint traces of sex, sweat, Bonnie's arousal, Hayden's saliva encompassing every inch of her skin. Damon never wanted to scrub someone clean so badly in his life because she shouldn't…she shouldn't be standing in front of him while coated in another man's musk. That was just plain bad manners in his humble opinion. Damon's jaw hardened.

But he redirected his thoughts to the true problem, the main event which was Bonnie herself. Bonnie, who was already so closed off, didn't know how to open the lid and let a familiar face take a peek inside what she kept bottled up. And Damon couldn't blame her.

She was looking at him again—dispassionately.

"Can we have this talk you're so desperate to have inside your car? I'm cold."

Damon nodded and opened the passenger side door for Bonnie and a second later sat behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and turned on the heat.

Bonnie held her fingers up to the vent and closed her eyes, mentally going back to that nightmare.

"We were at Jo and Alaric's wedding. Kai was there…knocked everyone out cold while siphoning power from the Gemini coven. You, Stefan, and Caroline were conscious. You tried to attack Kai because he had…done something to Elena. But Kai stopped you and basically had you suspended in the air while strangling you. I think he killed Jo. She was bleeding profusely from the abdomen. Alaric was holding her, his hands covered in her blood and he asked Kai how he had gotten out. He answered…_loophole_ then turned to me and told me to wait for the grand finale. I woke up before whatever was going to happen, happened."

Bonnie slowly peeled her eyes opened and looked at Damon. He could picture the grisly scene as if he had been right there.

Guess it had been wishful thinking on his part that Lily's family would turn Kai Parker into dinner and drain him until he was a prune. It was possible Kai could be dead, but then…Kai had admitted to attempting suicide plenty of times with no success. Would that still reign true considering he hadn't been in his _exact_ prison world? Guess it wouldn't matter either way since he had been connected to both.

"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the most likely for something to happen do you think it's possible for Kai to find a loophole and free himself?"

Bonnie answered unequivocally. "Ten."

* * *

**Mystic Grill**

"I feel like I'm about to burst and my underwear won't stop creeping its way into my ass."

"I told you, you needed the next size up, Kourtney but you never want to listen."

"Shut up, hoe."

"Make me, bitch."

The door to the bathroom burst open startling both females hovering near the sinks stuffing pertinent body parts back into their rightful spots.

"How bout I shut you _both_ up?" Caroline Forbes lazily walked over to the two ladies. "Your annoying voices were grating on my ears and I've had a shitty terrible day," she leaned in to sniff them.

The lighter of the two blondes stared at her aghast, then scoffed. "Sorry, I don't swing that way."

Caroline cocked a grin and examined her reflection. Her hair was wild, pupils way too dilated. Feeding on a user of prescription pills and weed she didn't think it possible to get high by proxy. Learned something new every day. She was thirsty, ravenously so and her day had gone to shit almost at the moment Stefan left her to clean up his trash. Caroline hated when her schedule went haywire and things failed to come together. It tapped danced on a deep seated insecurity stemming from her childhood when she noticed something off about her parents. If she could be Little Miss Perfect, perhaps her dad would stop flirting with their male neighbor who lived down the street, and pay attention to her mom.

Whiners cried over spilled milk. Those with ambition poured themselves a new glass.

That's what Caroline aimed to do…only there had been a snafu.

Stefan had decapitated her drama instructor which meant no play! How was she to make her acting debut in a no-ticket town like Whitmore if those with mediocre connections, at best, ended up dead? As luck would have it, a local theater had been holding open auditions for a play inspired by the book _Gone Girl_. Caroline had shown up ready to audition for the part of the head bored housewife who happened to be leader of the gossips since the two principle roles had already been cast.

About forty other blond-haired blue-eyed girls around her age and slightly older had shown up, rehearsing their lines when Caroline arrived. It had been a legion of blonde ambition that would have had any producer in Hollywood salivating at the untapped—literally and figuratively—talent waiting to see if they could make their dreams of stardom come true.

Caroline figured she had nothing to worry about, and when it was her turn to audition as "Tammy" she said her lines, included action, made sure her face held the right amount of shock, awe, dismay, scandal, intrigue, and sexual provocation.

"Thanks," the director and producer said flatly before yelling, "NEXT!"

The dismissal was akin to feeling like the help.

Caroline inquired through clenched teeth. "Um, I know it's premature and you have other actresses to see, but…how was I?"

"Look, maybe a few more acting lessons with a coach and maybe…" the executive producer tried to cushion the blow of rejection.

"To get to the heart of it," the actual playwright interjected, "you're beautiful in a generic way, but your acting has no personality. I didn't _feel_ anything from you. It was a nice effort, but there was a disconnect. Acting is more than reciting the lines in the way you think we want to hear. You have to infuse whatever makes you, _you_ into what you're doing, and I just didn't feel that. Thanks for coming down."

A disconnect? A. Disconnect? A FUCKING DISCONNECT! Caroline's mind raged. She stretched her lips into a plastic smile, and stomped off the stage. The calculating vampire waited until the auditions were done, until night fell, until the playwright and producer were walking inattentively to their respective vehicles.

Caroline picked off the producer first since he at least tried to be nice with his 'no'. His blood curdling screams were muffled by her jaws clamping tightly around his neck. She didn't kill him though. Dialed 911 from his cell and left it beside his head.

The playwright, Caroline followed him to his home. Snuck up behind him. "How's this for making a connection," she buried her fangs so far deep she hit bone and lacerated a major artery. Blood splattered violently across crown molding, dripped off the doorknob. "Asshole," she allowed his body to wilt to the pavement right outside of his front door where his three year old daughter watched from the window.

Caroline caught sight of her innocent face and blinked furiously. Her apathy told her to walk the fuck away; her humanity told her to save the man before it was too late. He had a family, a child, a daughter.

Like her mom. A shiver crawled down her spine.

Back in the moment, Caroline eyed her latest dinner prospects needing a new memory to wipe out, replace the old.

"I've done terrible things tonight. Things that would land me on death row, lethal injection," Caroline flicked her finger against her forearm where the needle would go. "And here you two are complaining about your poor taste in fucking underwear," she laughed drily. "I should eat you, paint this bathroom with your blood," Caroline flipped her hair. "_But _other than curing my hunger, what would your deaths prove? How shoddy police work is in this state?"

The two young women bounced concerned glances in an optical game of ping pong. They didn't know what to do, what to say, what to believe. Whether the blonde chick was serious or stoned or seriously stoned. But it was two against one and they had been in scraps before, usually with other drunk chicks. This chick in front of them would be no different.

Caroline witnessed the moment they went from being frightened to being ready to throw down. Defend themselves. She smiled—well smirked, rotated her neck and sighed when her bones popped.

"You should have begged," she told them almost sullenly. "I would have felt a little bad if you had begged."

* * *

The harsh florescent lighting made Bonnie feel exposed in a way that was unnerving. But this diner was the only place open at this time in the morning in a city that wasn't built with insomniacs in mind. The harsh smells, the sticky leather booth, the heat made her fidget and shift restlessly while her fingers drummed on the table surface. When she had been here a few days ago she had been so confident, and now Bonnie saw herself flaking away. Disintegrating.

Her stack of pancakes with a side of bacon arrived. Their waiter, the owner's overly friendly nephew smiled too brightly at Bonnie as he delivered her meal.

"Careful it's hot."

"Thanks," Bonnie muttered and grabbed a ton of napkins.

"Is there _any_thing else I can get for you?" he laid on the charm extra thick like molasses.

"No, we're good."

Damon shooed the waiter away the second his bourbon and plate of fries was dumped in front of him. He knew without asking that Bonnie had been thinking. Damon couldn't say whether she would share whatever traipsed through her mind. As far as trust went, he still had making up to do to re-earn the trust he mismanaged, took for granted.

"What are you thinking, witchy?"

"That I'm going to have to find the loophole to Kai's loophole to make sure he and your mom's adopted family never makes it out."

"Have you come up with anything?"

"I need the ascendant."

Guilt flashed in Damon's eyes that made a muscle in the back of Bonnie's neck twitch.

"Damon what did you do with it?"

"I-I still have it," he stuttered.

"That doesn't sound convincing or reassuring."

The vampire sighed and tossed back his bourbon. "To placate my mother I gave it to her as a show of good faith. She doesn't know that it needs Bennett blood or a Bennett witch to activate it, _nor_," he stressed, "will she find that out."

Bonnie's eyes rolled. "Your mother might not be versed in this century but I hardly doubt she's stupid. She knows _I _was the one who did the spell to get us out. So what makes you think she won't come after me? She's seen me use it twice, Damon."

"I'll think of something."

"A lie is a stall tactic not a solution. I _want _the ascendant."

"And what do you plan to do with it once you have it?"

"That's not your concern." In that moment Bonnie felt she had become her grandmother. "The less you know perhaps the better."

Damon planted his elbows on the table, "You know if Kai somehow makes it out that he won't just be your problem. This is what we do, Bonnie. We face our enemies head on. We rely on each other. Sure I've been a dick the last couple of times we've seen each other, but you know I have your back. You know you can trust me."

"I don't know that, Damon. The minute anything threatens Elena and all bets are off. She's your pressure point."

Arrow, bullseye.

"She's not yours?" he challenged defensively.

The stoic expression on Bonnie's face never altered. "I've done everything I'm going to do for Elena. If it comes down to her or me…I'm choosing me."

Damon fell back against the booth—astonished. He scrutinized this _new_ Bonnie unsure if he should applaud her for being cutthroat, or alarmed. At the end of the day they both knew he wouldn't let anything harm Elena, which was a conundrum because in Damon's mind that grace now extended to Bonnie. Yet she didn't have enough faith in him or trust that he wouldn't sacrifice her life to spare Elena's. And Damon recognized his actions had done little to suggest otherwise.

_But this isn't a fucking competition, _his mind raged. Elena wasn't the one in potential danger, wasn't the one who would need protection.

Damon didn't like what she just shared, Bonnie pieced together by his furrowed brow.

Bonnie picked up a strip of bacon and bit off the tip. She chewed slowly. "You do what you have to do to get me the ascendant. If plan A works we won't have anything to worry about."

"If it fails?"

"Then there are more letters in the alphabet. We have a timetable to work within. If my dream turns out to be a vision…we know when Kai will strike. At Alaric and Jo's wedding which is a little over a month away."

"Should I let him know?"

Bonnie gnawed into her cheek. It would be a precautionary measure which could prompt Jo and Alaric to either push back or push up the wedding, or cut the wedding altogether, run off and elope. However, if her dream turned out to be a nightmare then they would have worried the engaged couple for nothing.

Moreover, withholding what she knew could prove to be deadly. There was never anything as too safe when dealing with someone crafty, sneaky, and lethal like Kai Parker.

Infinitesimally, Bonnie nodded. "You should tell him…_if_ I have the dream again. I usually have a dream three times before it comes true, and you know about the power of three. Mark tonight as dream one. In the meantime we need to hurry up and convince Caroline and Stefan to flip their humanity back on. We're going to need reinforcements."

"Oh joy."

"Suck it up," Bonnie finished off her strip of bacon and picked up another. "Stefan and I had a nice chat the other day if that's what you want to call it."

Damon's back went up. He knew what a prick Stefan was without his humanity. "What did he say to you?"

"It wasn't so much what he said to me but what I said to him," a beat. "He brought up my suicide attempt…I didn't appreciate that so much."

The suicide. Damon hadn't forgotten and neither had Bonnie. Damon blanched slightly as he remembered what he did the minute Jeremy reported he was able to open the garage door to let out the car exhaust before it suffocated Bonnie.

"The hell's the matter with you?" Bonnie snapped.

"What?" Damon fired back. Did she know he and Elena fucked like horses in a barn right after her failed suicide attempt that took place on her birthday no less? Classy.

Bonnie waved a hand in the air. "Never mind because I'm sure whatever you were thinking just now would somehow either piss me off or make me sick."

"Look," Damon clasped Bonnie's hand. She didn't flinch at his touch. "Your birthday may be the one time I found myself being grateful Jeremy Gilbert was around."

A divot formed between Bonnie's eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

Damon explained to Bonnie what happened on her birthday. Filling in blanks she never thought to ask or question the moment she was home where she longed to be. Now things made sense about how the garage door seemingly opened on its own. How the Atlas ended up on the kitchen floor turned to the exact page she needed to find the headstone with Qetsiyah's calcified blood.

She sat in stunned silence. What Damon omitted was Kai's part in sending Jeremy back to 1994. His one decent act couldn't erase the bad and ugly.

"Maybe I should pay Jeremy a visit," Bonnie pondered aloud.

Damon sneered faintly, "I don't think that's necessary. Send him a fruit basket. I need you here where I can keep an eye on you."

Bonnie gaped at him drolly.

Their meal finished, lines drawn in the sand, Damon drove Bonnie back to Hayden's apartment complex. The ride had been spent in quiet contemplation, the gaps of silence filled with light rock music.

Damon shifted into Park. "When you get inside take a gotdamn shower."

The young witch wasn't offended but actually amused by Damon's puckered face. Her amusement grew until she was smiling. "You saying I stink?"

"I'm _saying_ I can smell what you and Hayden did earlier tonight…I can smell your…you really want me to finish my point?"

"I don't need you to. Look at you, all jealous."

Damon swung his vision to glower out the front windshield. "Shut up. I'm not jealous. I just have a sensitive nose."

"He said jealously."

Leaning over, Bonnie nuzzled into Damon who grimaced and shouted, "Get your sex germs off of me!"

Pulling back she laughed. "I'll talk to you later, Damon. Thank you." Bonnie climbed out of the car.

For one harrowing second Damon twitched to smack her denim covered ass. Instead his hand choked the gear shift. "Let's touch base later today, Bonnie."

She bent down to peek at him through the window. "Okay. Be safe."

Damon idled at the curb while Bonnie climbed the stairs to Hayden's apartment. She let herself in with the key she swiped from the unconscious graduate student. He drove off regretting the fact he didn't try to convince Bonnie to come home with him.

* * *

Bonnie didn't get a wink of sleep after being dropped off. She took a shower like Damon rudely suggested and waited for Hayden to wake up, fighting against the urge to flee to the comfort of the bed and breakfast. Bonnie went back and forth if she should have asked Damon to erase her completely from Hayden's mind, but vetoed the idea. She yearned to be remembered in a good way because too many people in her family had been forgotten, their sacrifices—unrecorded.

Point blank Bonnie was tired of being erased.

Hayden woke up stretching his sinewy arms above his head, a saucy pout to his lips that inspired a tired smile from Bonnie. His fingers found their way to her cheek, grazing her smooth skin gently.

"You look tired, babe," Hayden remarked in a husky voice. "Did I hog the bed, snore too loud?"

Bonnie scrutinized him, waiting for any kind of recognition of last night's events to kick into gear. Hayden stared back with a look of admiration. Relief reveled in her blood and Bonnie shook her head and climbed on top of Hayden, pulling off her oversized T-shirt.

Her scars showed, self-consciousness flared, yet melted when Hayden traced one jagged scar. He had questioned her about them once to which Bonnie replied she wasn't ready to answer. He let it go and told her she was beautiful.

"Make me forget," she whispered their special code.

Hayden gave it his best shot. Divesting himself of his basketball shorts, Hayden sheathed his erection in latex, kissed Bonnie while strumming her with his fingers prior to sliding inside her, root to tip. Slowly he rutted into Bonnie at the right speed, with the right pressure that her mind almost floated away from its trials and tribulations. But the minute he flipped their positions, Bonnie was no longer looking into Hayden's carnal hazel gaze but into that of her tormentor.

_Kai _stared down at her, sweaty brow, mouth hanging slightly open. "I can't stop fucking you, Bonnie," he grinned in the same unnerving way he did right before plunging steel straight through her intestines.

She gasped sharply and had to stop herself from gouging her thumbs into Hayden's eye sockets. "Stop, stop, STOP!"

Hayden, lost in his own pleasure, stilled and stared at Bonnie confusedly. "What's wrong," he petted her. "What's the matter?"

Bonnie braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed until Hayden got the message she wanted him off of her. He slid out of Bonnie with a groan and proceeded to watch helplessly as she quickly dressed.

"I'm sorry, Hayden. I-I have to go."

"Bonnie," Hayden clamored out of bed taking the sheet with him that he wrapped around his waist. "Slow down. Tell me what's going on."

She snapped up after getting a sock on. Her mouth opened, shut; she tried again and couldn't find the right words to articulate what she had been growing terrified of. She was fucked up.

"I can't do this."

"Do what? I'm not pressuring you for anything, Bonnie."

"I know you're not, Hayden and I really thought I was ready…but," she sucked in a breath and slowly released it. Tears converged and leaked down her cheeks. She was standing in front of someone she liked who she just had compelled not to be afraid of her, and Bonnie still felt so…empty. "I can't do this. I'm sorry."

Grabbing the rest of her things, Bonnie put them on as she hobbled down the hallway to the living room, Hayden trailing behind the whole while.

She stood in front of the door moments from throwing it open. Hayden felt he had to get her to calm down.

"Bonnie, please don't leave while you're this upset. If you don't want to talk about what's bothering you at least stay until you're calm enough to drive. I'll make you some coffee, make you breakfast. Just…don't get behind the wheel."

He was right. It would be dangerous to drive while she was emotional. Yet the idea of remaining under the same roof as Hayden while she was having an anxiety attack made Bonnie feel suffocated. But all she really wanted to do was run, far and as fast as her legs would take her.

"_You stay strong, Bonnie Bennett."_

Hearing Grams' disembodied voice was the equivalent of an acupuncture needle hitting the right spot. If she continued to run, continued to allow Kai to slither his way into her thoughts without warning inspiring the hostile kind of fear that made her strike out at whoever or whatever was nearby, she'd never get her life back.

And if there was one thing Bonnie was sick of, she was sick of being afraid and feeling gotdamn weak.

Bonnie drew her hand away from the knob but didn't turn around right away to face Hayden.

He didn't move from his spot. Bonnie was throwing out every single 'stay the fuck away' signal in the book and he would heed her silent warning. After all he was naked and she had nails.

When she was ready enough, Bonnie pivoted but avoided making eye contact with Hayden. Embarrassment pounced and dragged her over to the couch where she curled up, hugging her purse and jacket to her chest.

"I just need to sleep," Bonnie whispered.

Hayden disappeared and reappeared with a blanket that he draped over her.

"Thank you, Hayden."

He said nothing, kneeled down to his haunches and sighed. "I just want you to be okay, Bonnie."

Yeah, she wanted the same thing, too.

* * *

**Two days later…**

He would choose to meet in a café. His dark clothing made him look urbane and chic. Like a man whose sole purpose was to seek out thrills and pleasure regardless of cost or extreme. His sandy blond hair caught the overhead lighting just right that it gave him a misshapen halo, and darkened the aqua blue of his eyes to violet. Bonnie watched for a moment as his lips kissed the rim of the little ceramic teacup as he helped himself to a sip of whatever he was drinking. His actions were a performance to throw off those loitering to and fro that he was one of them; completely harmless and utterly human.

After taking a sip of his beverage, a corner of his mouth curled into a smirk, but he continued to flip through pages of a magazine laid out on the table.

Hitching the leather strap of her handbag higher on her shoulder, Bonnie squared her shoulders and moved forward. For one moment she wondered if it would be in her best interest to pretend she hadn't seen him. It would be a waste because he could smell her.

Sucking in a massive breath, Bonnie crossed over the black and white checkered floor to his table.

He continued to keep his head down, concentration focused solely on airbrushed models printed on glossy pages while she stood there waiting to be acknowledged.

"Ah, Miss Bennett," Klaus lifted his head then. "Glad we could meet again."

**A/N: Thank you, loves for reading. We have an Original among our ranks, what's going on here? I'll go ahead and say it doesn't have anything to do with Caroline, in case you were wondering. Stay tuned. Review, review, review! And in case you haven't heard Kat and Ian have been nominated for Choice TV Chemistry and Kat for TV Scene Stealer for the TCA's. Register to vote or tweet. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you everyone for reviewing. This picks up where last chapter left off. Enjoy.**

* * *

Her black hair fell pin straight, blade sharp well past her shoulders bringing out the flecks of gold in her green eyes that were feathered by long, dark lashes. He never took more than a cursory look at the Bennett witch, and at the moment he was getting his fill. Her lips were nicely shaped, painted a deep crimson as they were like she had taken a literal bite out of a heart. Her attire matched the somber occasion of meeting with an old foe, dark and form-fitting. She used to smell like innocence and fire. Now he just smelled fire with a hint of rosewood. Wholly appealing and infuriatingly distracting.

"Can I offer to get you something to drink?"

Bonnie was inclined to say 'no', but her throat was dry. It wasn't easy sitting across from Klaus who could be predictable in his unpredictability. Yet she chose him like a chess piece, and the only way to see yourself through something was to go _through_ it.

"Well, since you're offering I'll have a peach mango lemonade."

"Excellent choice," Klaus spoke casually over his shoulder at the person manning the counter. "A peach mango lemonade for the lady."

Bonnie darted her eyes to the man fixing drinks and frowned. He was a vampire?

She ditched her question the second Klaus was looking at her again.

"I must admit that receiving your call after believing you to be dead and gone with the other side…intrigued me. Your request not so much. You want me to put you in touch with a witch?"

"Yes."

Klaus made a steeple of his fingers. "And what do I get out if it?"

Bonnie leaned forward. "Nothing," she sat back. "This isn't about trading favors. I saved your life _twice _and that of your siblings. I don't owe you anything else. This is about you," she pointed at him, "doing something for me," revealed pointing at her chest.

Klaus' eyes hardened spitefully and stayed that way for long seconds, but Bonnie never flinched or wavered. She had beaten death more than once and if he killed her she would come back again. That's how it worked. She was the literal definition of reincarnation except she ended up in her original body that went through some alterations.

Before he could retort her drink was placed in front of her.

Klaus couldn't decimate the resolve in Bonnie's gaze. She was serious and wouldn't cower simply because he was seated across from her. This wasn't a game and she wasn't over promising on the gravitas.

"I have my ancestor's magic in me and I need to know how to use it. Effectively. I need grimoires that are as old as you and witches who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. Can you arrange it?" Bonnie sipped her lemonade.

"Who wants the doppelgänger dead now?"

"This has nothing to do with Elena."

Intrigue brightened Klaus' demeanor. "Really? You want to become more powerful strictly for yourself?"

Klaus, Bonnie decided, didn't need to know specifics. He wasn't here to be a confidant but to be a connection, hooking her up with the right invaluable sources of knowledge.

She was a powerful witch but didn't know what to do with that power. Bonnie had seldom used it for herself. Any time she cast a spell had been at the behest of someone or someone(s) she didn't like very well or at all. The gross misappropriation of her magic cost her everything. It was time for it to stop. Time for her to ascend.

Bonnie stared unblinkingly at Klaus, "Power is power and I'm using the sources that exploited me in the past to get what I want and need for the future."

At that Klaus chuckled appreciatively.

The Bennett witch had quite changed from that desperate and frightened girl who threw out magic that ended up costing her big time. Who didn't understand she wasn't inferior to anyone because she had the advantage of being part of a legacy that expanded centuries; and if she so wished it could make slaves of the undead. Of course no one in her group would ever tell her that. Once a lion realized its own strength there'd be no controlling it.

Bonnie might be petitioning for his help to help her friends indirectly, but something scared her enough to seek him out for assistance. Klaus couldn't remember the last time he came across a witch who had the wherewithal to keep him on his toes and didn't outright annoy him. Of course the attempts Bonnie and friends made on his life pissed him off and was more than a nuisance, but any time they got the upper hand they quickly had to forfeit it. It became a game with no clear victor.

Finishing off his cafe, Klaus licked his lips and drew a measured eye over Bonnie. Yes indeed she had changed. Her brow wasn't wrinkled in disgust as he had come accustomed to her facial features reflecting how despicable she found him. Her posture was relaxed almost regale. She wasn't afraid at least not viscerally, Klaus amended

Bonnie wasn't fearful he'd hurt her. What she was afraid of was him telling her no, turning down her offer.

Of course he wouldn't have left New Orleans if he hadn't already considered Bonnie's proposal.

"I have terms you know," he spoke at length.

"And I already told you this isn't about trading favors."

Klaus waved her words away. "I don't mean you jump anytime I snap my fingers in exchange for help. You're right, I do owe you. As the Lannisters say they pay their debts…I'm learning to do the same," the hybrid leered wolfishly.

"So what are your terms, Klaus?"

"My terms are you keep your complaints to yourself; you do as instructed at all times with minimal resistance, and...you accompany me to the spring masquerade that's conveniently being held at my estate this weekend."

Bonnie blinked. "What?"

"I don't believe I stuttered."

"I can't be seen with you in public."

"Then we have no deal."

Bonnie almost threw the rest of her drink in his face. She bit her lips and looked away. He wanted _her _to be his _date_? That just sounded wrong. Didn't he have a thing for Caroline? She was a bit surprised he hadn't asked about her once. Vampire feelings could burn red hot for a long time or cool as if they never existed. Bonnie didn't want to be his date and have to suffer through multiple interrogations about why they were together. If you were going to break bread with an enemy, do it privately that way you could protect your integrity. At least that's how Bonnie saw it.

Klaus leaned forward. "What's your answer?"

Her hands were tied. She needed him.

"Fine. I'll be your date."

"Then you and I are in a partnership together."

That sounded far too permanent to Bonnie. "This ends when I say."

The hybrid smiled slyly, "Of course."

"How's your daughter?"

"She's beautiful and happy. She needs a godmother," he eyed her pointedly.

Bonnie snorted, grabbed her bag and got to her feet. "Good bye, Klaus."

* * *

Elena double checked to make sure she had everything she'd need before heading out. There were two more weeks left of school and she'd be on summer vacation, moving into the boardinghouse. A smile began to stretch across her face as she thought of what she and Damon might get into…well, once Caroline and Stefan were back to normal, for them, and his mother gave up her quest to bring her "family" into the twenty-first century. Elena doubted anything would be cut and dry because it never was. She knew in the lining of her stomach someone was going to die. That's how these situations invariably played out. Whenever they went up against an enemy, someone paid the price with their life.

She denounced those thoughts. She needed to think positively about this. The door burst open startling her and out of reflex her fangs lengthened and spidery red veins converged in her eyes. Seeing who it was her posture didn't relax as she appraised Caroline Forbes.

Blood caked on her bottom lip, the pocket on her dress was ripped. Her hair was wild and bluish-purple bruising stained the hollows underneath her eyes. This was the closest to a zombie Elena had ever seen Caroline.

"What happened to you?"

"Oh, grow a brain, Elena," the blonde snapped. "What do you think?"

Crossing her arms, Elena jutted out her hip, "You look like hell."

Caroline shrugged tiredly. The last twenty-four hours were a blur. All that ran through her mind was her mother's face and that damned little girl who watched her feed murderously on her father. This "no humanity" thing was beginning to suck. Majorly. Caroline wasn't supposed to _care_ about anything, or second guess her actions. She was supposed to be an emotional void, and she was at times, but that in of itself was an oxymoron because vampires felt and experienced things more intensely; and those feelings were saying to the vexed vampire to hell with your expectations because we have our own. You don't want to feel? Get the fuck out of here. Just as you can't stop thinking, you can't stop feeling.

It was supposed to go away. All of it. Every single drop of feeling was supposed to have vanished. Residue. She was tangled in residue.

Caroline flounced backwards on her bed. The voices of remorse, guilt, shame, regret wouldn't stop screaming in her ear. Caroline ignored them as much as she could but they were cracking the glass wall she was hiding behind.

Elena studied her, questions itching to get out but she didn't desire to agitate her lost friend more than she was at present. "You'll have the room to yourself. I have some errands to run and then I'm having dinner with…"

"I'm sorry, but did I ask for your stupid itinerary? I could give a fuck less about what you're doing, Elena."

Heat and anger flushed through the doppelganger who pushed it aside, shoved it elsewhere. She knew she couldn't really take offense at Caroline's callousness since she had been a flaming bitch when her humanity was off. Still, the blonde's words and dismissal struck a nerve because Elena just wanted her to be okay. To deal with her grief properly and not make the same mistakes she made when she lost Jeremy, and when Damon died.

"I guess I'll see you later then," Elena relented.

"Bye."

Elena grabbed her purse and overnight bag, strode two steps towards the door. She paused and refaced Caroline. "Do you really think this is how your mom would want you to handle her death? By living up to all the stereotypes she was raised to believe about vampires?" the brunette shook her head. "You two fought through so much to have the kind of relationship you've always wanted where she was there for you, listened to you, took you seriously and now you're pissing on everything because she's dead? People lose someone they care about every day, and it doesn't make your loss any less important, but they don't…"

Elena couldn't get the rest of her sentence out because she was slammed against the wall, a hand wrapped tightly around her throat.

Caroline inhaled and exhaled loudly. "Are you done talking, super-twat because I'm done listening. God," she chuckled deprecatingly. "I'm surprised you didn't mention yourself once. Congratulations but I'm sure that probably killed you," Caroline's blue eyes darkened, turned menacing. "Make yourself really useful, Elena take a page out my mom and dad's book and disappear from my fucking life."

She held on to Elena a little longer, squeezing just a bit harder until a nice fat vein ruptured down the middle of the doppelganger's forehead. The blonde yelped when her throat was seized, tables were turned and it was her back smacking into the wall.

Caroline wheezed. "I'm stronger than you, Elena. Let go."

"I will as soon as you turn it on."

Caroline's knee came up and she rammed in into the doppelganger's crotch. Elena buckled but her hold on Caroline loosened just enough for the older vampire to maneuver her neck out of Elena's grasp. She stood behind the clone in an instant, twisting Elena's arm awkwardly and painfully behind her. There was an audible snap. Elena stifled her scream and bit viciously into her bottom lip.

"It would be so easy to rip you to shreds."

"So do it," Elena goaded.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? You'd finally become the martyr you never were. But I rather kill someone actually worth my time. You're not," Caroline shoved Elena away. "Go fuck your boyfriend until your cunt falls off."

Holding on to her broken arm, Elena stared at Caroline beseechingly. "Just turn it back on. _Please_."

"OUT!"

Elena hesitated, but got into motion when Caroline's face morphed. She grabbed her bag, spared her friend one final, pitiable glance and walked out the door.

* * *

Playing dress up used to be her favorite game as a child. As she matured, grew older her childhood game became a reality. The plethora of dances, galas, balls the town held religiously meant she stayed in a boutique combing through racks of gaudy dresses looking for the one that made her jaw drop.

Those gowns had been a bit difficult to come by, and she hadn't liked to stand out. So she settled for what was cute, trendy, comfortable. She registered low on the bar of second glances and compliments, but she hadn't cared. Much. She couldn't be that way at the masquerade ball. Make a splash or putter alone in the kiddie pool were her choices.

Bonnie could lie to her friends but she tried not to lie to herself and admit the idea of showing up as Klaus' date made her…smile. It didn't make her giddy or fill her with dread, but it was one of those situations she preferred to see how it'd play out. Made her wonder how many quiet corners she'd be dragged off to while she was berated, her friends (what was left of them) tried to talk sense into her.

Bonnie couldn't remember the last time she thought so clearly and rationally.

She kicked aside another dress to the ever increasing reject pile. If she had the time Bonnie would have ordered a gown.

Wiggling back into her button down and jeans, Bonnie tore out of the fitting room to do another search.

She headed over to a rack but was instantly distracted by the woman standing in front of the trifold mirror. The tendons in Bonnie's neck stiffened, protruded through her delicate skin and she wondered if she had time to inch back to her fitting room to gather her purse, slip on her shoes, and beat it before she was spotted.

However, she didn't move. She observed as Lily Salvatore assessed the coral, floor length gown. Her lips were turned down at the corners, her brow crumbled in distaste. She didn't seem comfortable with the amount of skin the dress revealed. It had a sweetheart neckline and dipped low in the back. Bonnie thought she looked amazing.

Lily's eyes shifted ever so slowly toward Bonnie. At first she didn't seem to recognize her. That relieved Bonnie but only slightly.

A thought came to the witch. Kill with kindness.

She crossed over the boutique, grabbed a shawl off a revolving rack and held it out to Lily.

Damon's mother stared at her suspiciously.

"That's a beautiful dress," Bonnie complimented. "The color works well with your skin tone. If you're worried about exposing too much of it, you can use this for added coverage."

Lily turned, lowered her attention to the shawl, lifted her head back to Bonnie a heartbeat later. Hesitantly she took the garment from Bonnie, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She felt a little better but couldn't help feel she'd pop out of the top of the dress any moment.

"The fashions of this time…" Lily flashed a here and gone smile that was too much like Damon's, "it's a lot to get used to. I tried searching for something a bit more modest but they were all…"

"Hideous?" Bonnie filled in comically.

Lily stifled a laugh. "Yes. Are you shopping for a gown for the masquerade gala?"

"I am."

"Have you had better success than I?"

Bonnie shook her head. "I'm still searching."

Lily twirled to reface the mirror. "You're my son Damon's friend? Bonnie, yes?"

The young witch steeled herself. "Yep. We're buds."

"He's spoken fondly of you…had only good things to say."

"I doubt that," Bonnie snickered.

Lily hitched an eyebrow in the air. Bonnie killed her smile.

"If you knew our history you'd know I wasn't trying to be disingenuous. Damon and I…it's taken _a lot_ of hard work for us to get to where we are."

"Most things in life worth having is worth the hard work that goes into it. I know my boy. I know how hard it can be to get through his tough skin. Bonnie?"

And Bonnie didn't need to be psychic to read Lily and what she was about to say next. Taking it as her cue to cut the pleasantries, Bonnie began inching back toward the fitting room.

"I'm running late for another appointment. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Salvatore."

"Please, call me Lily. Um…before you go," Lily faced Bonnie once more. "I do have a favor to ask."

"I have to—,"

"—I'm preparing a dinner for my son and his girlfriend, Elena tomorrow. All I've seen Damon consume is…" Lily lowered her voice, "blood and bourbon. I know what he preferred eating when he was…human…I'm curious if his palate has changed."

The alarm's in Bonnie's head dimmed but didn't stop blaring entirely. "He likes pancakes."

"Pancakes?"

The dubiousness was clear in Lily's query. Bonnie nodded and took a step backwards. "Yes, but…I've learned Damon isn't a picky eater. So long as it doesn't have feathers or fur, he's pretty easy to please."

"Hmm…do you really approve of this gown?"

Bonnie stopped moving, regarded Lily. "It's beautiful and looks even better on you. You're gonna break some hearts," she winked. Damon's mother became slightly flustered. "I'll see you later, Lily."

Five minutes later, Bonnie's eyes were darting in every which direction as she bolted from the boutique and clamored behind the wheel of her car. She pulled out her cell and sent Damon a text. Lily hadn't brought up her trapped family but Bonnie knew they were running out of time, knew _she_ was running out of time. For now, Lily seemed willing to play house, be a good and docile vampire mother, but her other side, the side that led to her entrapment would be clawing for its freedom. Bonnie needed the ascendant and it she needed it _now. _

* * *

She kept her eyes forward, locked on Kai, who hobbled over to the raised platform, and plopped down.

Little fires burned here and there. Her heeled boots stepped through pools of blood, flower petals, broken glass, yet her attention remained steadfast on Kai.

Bonnie came to a stop in the middle of the aisle.

"You look angry," Kai remarked. "Look, I know this is a surprise but wholly not unexpected. Did you really think I wouldn't figure out how to claw my way out of hell and bring cargo with me? Did you _really_ think you'd get rid of me that easily? I must say…I'm a little hurt you have so little faith in just how _ruthless_ I am, Bonnie."

She heard the inflection in his voice. The voice of a true demon cloaked in human skin with a face plenty would find attractive and think incapable of brutally ending a life.

"You got what you wanted, Kai. You're out. You're head of a coven that would probably kill themselves than serve under you. What more could you possibly want?"

Kai ducked his head and peered at her under his lashes as if he were shy. "I thought it was rather obvious. You and I…we could have had something special."

Bonnie scoffed. "In what _world _would I ever be with a cold-hearted psychopathic bastard like you? You shot me with an arrow, drugged me, kidnapped me, stabbed me and left me for dead."

"Character flaw," Kai made a non-committal motion with his shoulder. "But let's not pretend _you _didn't start this, Bonnie."

"What?"

"Everything that's happening right now is your fault."

"This is all _your_ doing! Don't twist the facts. You threatened to kill me. You siphoned my power from me, _first. _I wasn't going to let you out to murder innocent people. You abused me. Not the other way around."

"Regardless…this is still your fault. A psychopath can't be held accountable for his or her actions because we're clearly insane. We have a…ah…mental illness," he laughed. "That's what they say right? You should feel proud, Bonnie. You left me to be food for a bunch of desiccated vampires who oh—turned out to be _witches_," fury laced his words and lined his face.

Bonnie's eyes sprang open. She had fallen asleep after six hours of shopping and a carb saturated lunch. Her dry throat heaved as vestiges from her dream popped like bubbles. _Let's not pretend _you_ didn't start this, Bonnie. _It wasn't her fault. _Everything that's happening right now is your fault. _What Kai did to her it wasn't her fault. Bonnie snapped the covers off and the lamp on the bedside table exploded. She was up and on her feet, tripping on her shoes while struggling to get them on.

Ripping out of the bed and breakfast, Bonnie drove like a wild woman to the hospital. At the first kiosk desk in the triage area she reached, she asked to speak with…

"Dr. Jo…" Bonnie drew a blank on her last name. She knew she knew it but couldn't think of it. "I need to speak to the engaged pregnant doctor!"

"Is this an emergency?"

"Yes!" Bonnie smacked the counter. She was losing it and told herself to get it together.

"Miss, you need to calm down."

"I'm sorry. It's important. Please, page her."

"Hold one second," the receptionist sniffed and paged Jo Parker.

Parker! Kai's last name was Parker and he was Jo's twin how could she forget a massive detail like that? Bonnie got over her folly the moment she saw the pregnant doctor making her way down one of the dimly lit corridors.

"Bonnie, hey. This is a surprise."

Bonnie lightly took Jo by the wrist and pulled her over to the waiting area and began hurling a bunch of information at Jo (omitting for now that she was viciously stabbed to death by her twin—it wasn't good to upset a pregnant woman) that with each piece revealed, Jo's eyebrows inched that much higher along her forehead.

"Come with me," Jo led the way to her office. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed exhaustedly. "This is bad."

Bonnie concurred. "Please tell me what I dreamed was only a dream. That Lily's family… aren't vampire-witch hybrids? I've had enough of hybrids."

Jo gifted Bonnie with an apologetic look. "I'm afraid it's true." Bonnie cursed. "They're called Heretics. Lily's blood…it's unique," Jo snorted. "Witches who are turned and transition lose their powers, are completely cut off from nature. However, for whatever reason, when Lily Salvatore turns a witch they maintain their powers. That's why they were entrapped along with Lily after slaughtering over three thousand people."

Bonnie paled. "And there I was helping her pick out a gown to attend a ball."

Jo nibbled the inside of her cheek. "Maybe if we're lucky Lily's Heretics turned my brother into a meal and he's dead. Permanently."

Then how did that explain her dreams? Bonnie rose from the visitor chair. "This was my second dream about Kai. If I have another," she didn't need to explain further. Jo understood.

"We'll deal with him."

"Yeah," Bonnie muttered weakly. "I'm sorry to spring this on you."

"I needed to know." Pause. "Are you all right?"

No, she wasn't. "I'll be okay."

Bonnie showed herself out.

* * *

When you were summoned by a Bennett witch it was best not to delay. Damon knew he was in serious trouble. He had avoided her constant text messages and phones calls because he was supposed to deliver the ascendant and had yet to do it. That explained why Damon's unbeating heart crawled up his throat.

Golden light spilled into the empty Whitmore classroom Damon wandered into. Bonnie sat at a desk, swathed in light looking the pillar of untouchable. When she stood up he foolishly expected to see the shadow of wings spread from her back. Instead she wore an indiscernible expression that left him feeling like he stepped into a room filled with vervain incendiaries.

Shutting the door behind him, Damon made his way to Bonnie. "Hey."

"Your mom's family…they're called Heretics. They're witch-vampires hybrids. Witchpires," Bonnie began without preamble.

Damon frowned. "What? Explain that again. Slowly."

"I had another dream. Just as vivid as the first. Kai was going on and on and then he said those desiccated vampires also happened to be _witches_. I went to Jo and she pretty much confirmed what Dream Kai said. I need the ascendant, Damon."

The ascendant like Elena's necklace, and before that the moonstone was starting to become a pain in the ass to the vampire.

"Lily has it hidden somewhere. I've searched the whole house…haven't come across it."

Bonnie breathed harshly through her nostrils, severely displeased.

"Without Bennett blood, Kai can't go anywhere," Damon tried for optimism.

"Are you sure about that?"

Damon's automatic answer was 'yes', but he stopped, his mind configuring a series of events. His teeth gritted and he cursed. Bonnie eyed him pensively and suspiciously.

"What?"

"I never told you _how _Jeremy was sent back to 1994. Remember the atlas you found on the kitchen floor that had the coordinates written down that led to the headstone and the cure?" Bonnie nodded. "Kai…was the one who performed the spell. He was there in the kitchen…it's possible he saw the atlas."

Bonnie eyes went wide and her hands balled into fists. Color rose swiftly to her cheeks. She laughed bitterly. "This isn't happening," she groaned. "If he finds that headstone, siphons Qetsiyah's blood…"

"Hey, look," Damon attempted to draw Bonnie near, but she pulled away from him.

"DON'T TELL ME ITS GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT, DAMON!"

The floor under their feet began to rumble.

"Bonnie, calm down."

"AND DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!"

Damon dodged out of the way when one of the desks hurtled toward the dry erase board.

Bonnie inhaled. That's all she could do to stop from bringing this damn university to the ground. "He was right. It is my fault."

Damon frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Bonnie didn't answer. Damon scowled. He hated when she did this shit. Clammed up and expected him to read her mind.

With little care to his own well-being, Damon approached Bonnie and grabbed her shoulders. "What are you talking about, Bonnie? Who said it was your fault? Kai? Don't let that asshole get inside your head. _He's_ the reason why you didn't make it home with me, why you were stranded alone for months. _Nothing _you did or didn't do was your fault."

"It doesn't matter," Bonnie said listlessly. "He doesn't get to win."

"That's my line," Damon smirked and massaged Bonnie's shoulders. "I can make an empty promise that I won't let Kai hurt you but I don't know the future. But what I can do is guarantee that whatever he tries to do to you, I'm doing to him and _much _worse."

Damon didn't move as Bonnie stared up at him. He saw her tears, noted the stiffness of her neck, shoulders, arms. He wanted to fix it, stop things from unraveling yet had enough humility to recognize he didn't have the power to do much of anything but provide muscle.

"Find the ascendant, Damon," Bonnie deadpanned. "I might not be able to stop Kai from getting out, but I can stop anyone else from going in."

"I'll try my best to get it to you."

"No, I don't need you to try your best. I need you to _do _it." Bonnie saw Damon's face pucker and that irritated her. "You've snapped your fingers at me expecting me to pull magic out of my ass at a moment's notice. I'm asking something simple of you. It's the _least _you can do."

Damon abruptly let Bonnie go. He glared at her. "If I can't find the ascendant or my mom decides not to give it to me after asking nicely…we need a contingency plan."

"I have one."

"And?"

Bonnie said nothing.

"Do you really think keeping secrets right now is smart?"

"I don't believe handing over an object that opens a door to a prison world containing witchpires is smart."

It would be so easy to shake her until sense fell into her head, Damon thought but that would be after he kicked his own ass. How was he to know that his mom's "family" was more than desiccated vampires? It's not like they came with a brochure, instructions, or a disclaimer.

"I fucked up, I can admit that. But I'm not going to jump through hoops to get you to trust me, Bonnie. Either you do or you don't. Either you have faith in me…or you don't."

Bonnie's innate anger simmered down. How many times had she placed her trust in the wrong person and it bit her savagely in the ass? Those hard lessons were the exact reason why she didn't want to trust Damon explicitly. Too many people had screwed her over and it always boiled down to her having to come and save the day.

Conversely, she knew what Damon was really saying. People trusted him to be a douche who stabbed you in the back. He made horrendous mistakes but did enough to be tentatively forgiven and welcomed back into the gang's good graces. It was an insidious cycle, a façade where he pretended he didn't care about public opinion, but secretly yearned to be seen as more than a lost cause.

Damon Salvatore was tired of being written off.

Bonnie Bennett was tired of being used and dying.

"I have faith," Bonnie began, "that you will do the right thing at the right time. That you will make the hard and fast decisions because that's what you excel in."

It wasn't exactly what Damon thought he'd hear, yet he found it perversely… satisfying.

Wrapping an arm around Bonnie, Damon led them out of the classroom. Elena, who had forgotten her economics book and doubled back to the dorm to get it, hoping Caroline was temporarily gone, froze when she saw them.

Damon was speaking. Bonnie was listening, staring at the ground.

Then…Bonnie's right hand inched up and her fingers sunk in between Damon's. With that one move it seemed they went from friends to something else. The hand hold was brief, last mere seconds, but Elena felt a jealous pang go through her regardless. She shucked it off and called herself ridiculous.

Bonnie and Damon were her two favorite people. She had absolutely nothing to worry about.

**A/N: As always thanks for reading. Please be kind and review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews!**

* * *

_Jackpot!_

He found it buried underground near one of the old wells that lined the Salvatore planation that had been torched in the late 1800's. Using his exemplary thinking skills the answer came to him swiftly of the place Lily would hide the most important object and means of getting her 'family' back. That led him to the house she shared with the man she loathed.

An adder slithered nearby that Damon ignored. The ascendant was locked inside an iron safe and he listened carefully, straining to hear the spinning dial click each time he got a number of the combination right.

"Voilà," he said victoriously after plugging in the right numbers, cracking open the safe. That square, rust colored object was his until he relinquished it into Bonnie's custody.

Damon debated for a full minute if he should leave a taunting note like he did for Markos after kidnapping his kinfolk. His conscience rang clear: It's probably best not to push Lily, her being a ripper and all, her blood able to make Heretics. She'd go after Bonnie just to spite him leaving no choice but to kill her. And he may have killed his nephew and snapped the neck of his best friend several times, Damon liked to think he reformed and wouldn't stake his mother.

Time would tell.

Stuffing the ascendant into a bag, Damon reburied the safe and hoofed on foot to the B&amp;B.

* * *

It was the hottest day of the year so far. Hot enough that the shorts and tee shirts could be broken out while the reprieve from the cold lasted. Bonnie took advantage of the warm weather by inviting Hayden over to help her wash her Prius. It was her first time seeing him since having a slight breakdown at his apartment where she accidentally attacked him.

In his mind they had an amazing night that ended horribly by dawn. But he hadn't run from her, didn't kill their budding relationship by hitting her with a classic: "I don't think we should see each other anymore." Hayden was turning into a keeper but a complication. With Klaus in town and their deal, the last thing Bonnie wanted was Hayden to get caught up in what was about to occur in the coming weeks. Yet, she meant what she said to Damon. Hayden was one of the few good things in her life and she didn't want to let him go.

Staring at his shirtless torso and cargo pants which displayed awesome butt cleavage, she couldn't afford to be selfish, but letting him go didn't seem to be an option either. Now she could better understand the Salvatore's obsession with Elena. Bonnie wouldn't haul off and say she was obsessed with Hayden, far from it. Only she understood their desperation to have any part of someone despite knowing what a danger they posed. Her lifestyle was dangerous and not exactly human friendly. Taking it one step farther, it wasn't friendly to _her. _

Cold water splashed her legs and ass. Bonnie yelped, glared, and almost made the water shooting out of the hose spray Hayden in the face. She caught herself remembering he didn't know she was a witch. Instead she dunked the sponge in the bucket of sudsy water and flung it at his head.

They ran around her car like children, but she smacked into his chest, and her feet took flight as Hayden lifted her up and spun her around. Laughter, the rich and real kind screamed from her mouth, and Bonnie's face began to hurt from smiling so much.

Lips connected and she melted against Hayden as he crushed her closer.

"You taste good," he whispered in her ear and began nibbling along her jaw before taking her mouth again, inching his tongue inside.

"Ahem."

Bonnie peaked an eye open and saw Damon standing five yards away—nose scrunched. She kissed Hayden one final time and wiggled, reluctantly, out of his arms.

"Hey," she said.

"Sup."

Hayden pivoted toward Damon, looked him up and down. "Hey man."

Damon flashed a here and gone smile before giving his undivided attention back to Bonnie. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Yeah," she glanced up at Hayden reading the question in his eyes. "I'll be right back."

"All right," Hayden kissed her again.

Failing not to blush, Bonnie motioned for Damon to follow her up to her room. He did and couldn't help where his eyes landed. On the individual droplets of water clinging to her curvy legs. Her plump ass and how they filled out her shorts. They were tiny enough he could make out a bare hint of cheek action.

Damon bit into his bottom lip.

Behind closed doors, the witch and vampire faced each other.

"I have something for you," Damon dug into the bag Bonnie just noticed was clutched in his hand. He pulled out what he had been tasked to find.

A smile lit her face, "The ascendant. I could so jump on you right now, but I'm wet," Bonnie's eyes went round. "Wait, that didn't come out right."

Snickering, Damon pointedly eyed the bed then stared at Bonnie, waggled his brows.

"Shut up," she pushed him aside, took the ascendant, and placed it on top of the bureau.

"Word to the wise I wouldn't hide that in a sock drawer."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Did you know there's another masquerade ball being thrown and it's taking place at Klaus'?"

Bonnie gave off no facial indication she was already privy to that information, that she'd be there as Klaus' date. She pressed her butt into the dresser and answered truthfully, "Yes, I did know."

"Are you going?"

"I am."

"With Hayden?"

Bonnie heard the growl in Damon's voice. "Someone else. How long do you think it'll be before your mom discovers the ascendant is gone?"

Damon accepted the change in conversation for what it was. Bonnie didn't want to tell him who her date was, fine. "I'm not sure. Maybe a few days. I'm breaking bread with her and Elena tonight."

"Going to bring up the fact you know her family is composed of witchpires?"

"And ruin the surprise? That'll make her spaz out and she needs to _believe_ we're in the dark about that one catastrophic fact," Damon cracked his knuckles. "Had anymore visions?"

"No." Bonnie wouldn't tell him about the panic attack she had while in the middle of having sex with Hayden. The thought of seeing Kai on top of her made her face pucker.

"That's…good," Damon said uneasily. "Well with Kai's questionable return I think I should hold off in letting Elena know about the cure. At least if anything happens she'll still be a vampire, which means awesome healing capabilities. Does it make me sound like a selfish tool? I mean," he began pacing, "I have the cure to the one thing she never wanted to be and I'm withholding it."

"Whatever you feel is best," Bonnie, for the moment, wasn't in the mood to soothe or quell Damon's anxiety about the cure. She could actually give a damn what he did with it at this point.

"You're not going to argue the merits of being honest?" he grinned.

Considering the secrets she was keeping? "That's a lesson you should know, by now, verbatim," Bonnie responded. "I have a million things running through my mind that's far more important than your 'will you or won't you' give Elena the cure bullshit."

Damon's head jerked back slightly. "I see I touched a nerve."

Crossing her arms, Bonnie sighed, "It's not that. I'm on edge, okay? I'm having visions about the person who repeatedly attacked me, and he may be getting out to finish what he started."

"That's not going to happen," Damon countered.

"Yes it will."

"What's with the defeatist attitude?" Her optimism in the prison world may have driven him crazy, but Damon didn't like to hear Bonnie talk this way. "You have leverage, a trump card. That makes it slightly better, doesn't it?"

Bonnie nodded, attempted a smile. "It's a start," she stood to her full height. "Thank you for giving me the ascendant. I need to get back to Hayden. Don't want him to think we're fooling around or something."

"It's far too quiet to give off that impression," Damon leered.

Viridian eyes rolled, "Cad."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"No," the young witch snickered, "not really." Pause. "This is the third time."

Damon's brows knitted together. "Third time, what?"

"That you've interrupted one of my make out sessions."

Oh that. "Yeah don't remind me. But…I'll grudgingly say Hayden seems to be a step up from the last two losers I caught you kissing."

Bonnie pursed her lips in disapproval.

Without warning, Damon was moving forward, fingers curling around Bonnie's wrist. For a moment neither moved nor spoke a word. His head began to lower, breath was held, and lips came into contact with the plump curve of Bonnie's cheek.

For her part, Bonnie believed she did a convincing job of hiding her shock. Damon pulled away, stared down at her with hooded eyes.

"What was that for?" the flummoxed witch asked.

"I…really don't know. If you're going to be kissed it should be by someone who knows what he's doing."

"You think Hayden doesn't know what he's doing?"

The timbre of the vampire's voice, changed, became raspier. "My eyes weren't on Hayden. They weren't on Jeremy or that other guy either."

The impact of those words seemed to hit them both and Damon immediately released his hold on Bonnie and scrambled to establish a neutral zone between them. A chasm that kept them apart not just physically, but emotionally as well. He was a notorious flirt but what he just said…to his horror sounded like he was _genuinely_ coming on to his best friend.

"Damon…" Bonnie was tongue tied and twisted, didn't know what to say to alleviate the tension that was just delivered between them.

"I…ah…this is awkward," Damon guffawed.

"It's entirely your fault."

Scratching behind his ear, Damon bobbed his head in concurrence. "I should probably take off now."

Bonnie didn't try to stop him. But…

Maybe she was a glutton for punishment but something she thought about during those lonely days and weeks she spent in total isolation, an idea she toyed with bolstered her resolve to ask…

"If you and I were still in 1994 and there was no way to get out…would you have ever…tried to kiss me?"

Hand poised on the doorknob, Damon let it go and stood in front of Bonnie. A voice inside his head was screaming he shouldn't entertain this question because he was in love with someone else. But from the glaze in Bonnie's eyes, Damon sat aside facts and decided to tell a truth of his own.

"I've thought about it. Knowing me, I definitely would have tried."

"What stopped you?"

"You," he answered matter-of-fact.

Bonnie didn't need him to elaborate. "Now? What about now?"

"Are you asking me to kiss you?"

Panic made the witch's heart torpedo. "No, no-no I would never do that. You're with my best friend and that would be cheating."

"It would be and one thing I'm not when I'm with someone is a cheater." Beyond his control, Damon's eyes latched onto Bonnie's lips. "Why do you need to know this, Bonnie?"

"Morbid curiosity."

He didn't smile, smirk, laugh or take any amusement in the moment. A veil did shroud his face, though. "I really need to go."

"Okay."

"I'll call you later."

"All right," Bonnie rasped. She stayed right where she was as Damon left her room.

Sagging to the edge of the bed, Bonnie's fingers traced her bottom lip feeling strangely bereft.

**BDBDB**

* * *

The table was set, wine was poured, and three people were seated together making polite small-talk that eased no one's nerves.

Elena smiled whenever Lily glanced her way and would open her mouth to throw out a compliment about the food; however, Damon often beat her to the punch throwing out jabs about things he didn't remember his mom doing when she was still human.

Underneath the table the doppelganger gripped his knee in a silent rebuke to be a bit more civil. The woman was a ripper underneath her prim and properness, no need in setting her off. However, Damon seemed determine to grind an ax into his mother.

They were working on the third course when Lily changed the topic of discussion focusing primarily on her son. "I ran into your friend at the consignment shop. Bonnie."

Damon roughly swallowed the goose he had been chewing. "You saw Bonnie?" For the last hour he couldn't _stop _thinking about her, and that worried him for obvious reasons.

"Yes," Lily wore an amiable smile on her face, her real feelings carefully hidden in her bright blue eyes. "She was nice enough to offer me fashion advice for the upcoming masquerade ball. Such a sweet girl; taking the time out of her schedule to help a practical stranger."

Elena laughed uneasily. "That's Bonnie. She's real big on helping those in need. I wouldn't have my life if it wasn't for her. A lot of us wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her."

"Oh? You're a close friend of Bonnie's? I thought she was only acquainted with Damon."

Elena's smile dissolved.

"It's just…" Lily stammered, "I've only heard my son talk about her. I just assumed they were closer."

"It's all right," Elena coughed and briefly flicked her eyes to Damon who was in the process of wiping his mouth, but was really concealing a smile. "I see how it might be misconstrued that we're not friends, but we are. She's like a sister to me."

Lily cut into her goose, "As I was telling Damon the other evening, good friends are hard to come by and they shouldn't be squandered. Like my friends," her jaw hardened for a second. She addressed her eldest, "Have you cleared the air with her?"

Damon shifted on the chair, "I have. We're cool." That moment in her suite at the B&amp;B…the antithesis of cool.

"That's good, I suppose," Lily remarked, confused by the vernacular 'cool' but left it alone. "If Stefan wasn't without his humanity I would suggest he call on her. I don't know Bonnie, obviously, but I detected she shares Stefan's quiet temperament."

Damon's grip on his fork tightened and he deadpanned, "I don't think Stefan is Bonnie's type and vice versa."

"Really? I know things are more progressive in this time than were when we were human, but she's beautiful. I don't see any real detriment…"

"She's not his type, mother. _Leave _it alone."

Lily resisted smirking. "I meant no harm."

"None taken," Elena spoke up for Damon, earning a scowl she didn't acknowledge by looking at him. "I'll agree. Bonnie and Stefan have things in common. She's…she's not the type to go for a guy one of her friends used to love."

Damon almost swallowed his drink down his windpipe.

Lily paused in mid-chew.

"These potatoes are _really _good," Damon said hoping to shift topics once again.

"Stefan was previously involved with one of Bonnie's friends?" Lily disregarded her son's compliment.

"Ah," Elena felt like she just backed herself into a corner. "Yes…me. He and I dated but it was a while ago."

The doppelganger refused to lower her gaze to her plate ready for whatever recriminations might follow. She wasn't dumb enough not to see how she'd be viewed once the truth of her love life was leaked to the public. People had strong opinions about that sort of thing. She, herself, had at one point, but finally came to grips with her fate. Such as it was.

Lily's ghost white skin remained perfectly alabaster though it was clear by the downturn of her mouth, and her newfound grip on her fork that she wasn't overly thrilled by the revelation that the girl sitting across from her had been involved with both of her sons.

Would she have gone for Giuseppe if he were still alive? Lily wondered.

"I see," she muttered drily, "times certainly _have _changed. I know I have no right to judge. People married their first cousins in my day. But…a woman drew the line at being involved with brothers."

Ice engulfed the room. Elena's appetite was officially ruined. Damon chewed his food while Lily sighed.

"Well thank God for the free love movement of the 60's. Who's ready for dessert?" Damon slapped a hand on the table.

Lily countered that by asking Elena, "You were in love with Stefan?"

"Y-yes. We met four months after my parents were killed. Our car had gone off a bridge and Stefan saved me."

"He saved you and not your parents?"

Clearing her throat, which mysteriously had turned dry, Elena stalled by taking a sip of water. "Stefan went to help my parents, but my dad motioned for him to save me first. When he went back for them…they were…gone," she cleared her throat again. "After meeting Stefan, I learned so much about myself, and he was there for me when I needed him," she said almost wistfully. Remembering those times her world had been filled with Stefan and hardly anything else.

"And along the way you two fell apart, grew apart?"

Lily's question stomped out Elena's musings. "Kind of it…it's complicated."

"So where does Damon fall into this complication?" Lily swung her gaze between the pair noting Elena's discomfort and Damon's eerily blank face.

He finally intervened, "It doesn't matter where I fall into the scheme of things. Elena fell out of love with Stefan and fell in love with me, and the two of us are trying to live happily ever after."

"Yet it doesn't bother you that she loved your brother, shared intimacies, I'm assuming with him? First?"

"Its water under the bridge," Damon enunciated through clenched teeth. If his mother kept persisting on this topic it would trudge up the dark side of his relationship with Elena and Stefan of which the former didn't remember since her memories were still blocked, and would prove what a real asshole he'd been to the latter.

Knowing when to surrender, Lily forfeited, backed off this line of questioning taking in Damon's agitation. There was more to the story, there always was. At the moment she honestly didn't care. She had something else that was of grave importance to her she wished to discuss.

"I've been giving thought to asking Bonnie if she could do the spell that would release my family."

Damon's fork clanged noisily against his plate. "Absolutely no _fucking_ way."

A series of events happened. Elena gasped at how Damon spoke to his mom, totally not surprised but still surprised at the vehemence in his tone. He tossed his napkin over his unfinished food, and glared. Lily accidentally broke her fork in half, and gritted her teeth.

"You're _not _going to ask her for shit. She can't help you with that."

Elena felt the temperature in the room drop as she worriedly sat and wondered what to say to salvage things.

Lily balled her hand into a fist so tight her knuckles popped. "I think I should let Bonnie be the judge of that. _She_ would be the one essentially helping _me_, not you and neither of _us_ needs _your_ permission."

"Try to go over my head on this and you _will_ regret it," Damon promised and stood up so abruptly his chair tipped over. "I'm full. Thanks for the meal."

Lily got to her feet as well, a lethal glint in her eyes. "I don't like resorting to threats but I will if I must. I've been bidding my time, being patient, adapting to the ways of this time, and I'm done," she flashed behind him, spoke over his shoulder. "I've killed thousands, ripped families apart if I was denied something as simple as a 'hello'" she whispered, "_Userò la tua puttana sangue di una ragazza contro di voi."_

Damon's nostrils flared, his chest expanded as he sneered at his mother.

"_Lei è così ansiosa per la mia approvazione, lei mi aiuti_," Lily switched back to English. "One way or another I will get what I want. How it's given to me will be determined by your interference or your participation. You want nothing ill to befall your loved ones…give me mine, or I will go over your head…or remove it."

Lily slinked out of the kitchen. Cursing, Damon picked up his wineglass and killed the contents.

Elena's mouth opened and closed before asking, "What did she say in Italian?"

"You don't want to know."

"That went swell," she tried for levity.

Damon snorted. "Now I know where I get my sweet side from."

"I'm worried for Bonnie, Damon."

Yeah, he was too and gripped the back of his neck. "She won't touch her. I won't let it come to that."

"There's a problem," the doppelganger pushed to her feet, "you can't be everywhere at once, and your mom is liable to hurt you just as much. As usual so much is going on right now. What are we going to do?"

"What we do every time we're facing peril and destruction…party."

* * *

Bonnie stood on the edge of creation, danced on the tip of the blade before leaping towards an endless bottom. About a year ago she had held the hand of Thanatos (death) and hoped for Hypnos (sleep), but instead was transplanted into a prison world, a replica of what she knew, but a living torture chamber just the same.

At the moment though she didn't feel like anything substantial. Her body didn't feel like its own, her thoughts were fragmented in confusion. She had experienced this kind of disorientation before.

Her lids fluttered open.

Rage and dementia were the two strongest things pumping within Bonnie. Her body hurt and the last few hours of her life she couldn't recall. Had she been with Hayden or Damon? Them both? Her memory was muddled and competed with her sensory output. Satin, she was lying on—it was a couch. A pool of sunlight shined through a nearby window and pierced her eyes. She winced and sat up slowly, looked around. Nothing was recognizable.

Her heeled boots scuffed the floor as she rose shakily to her feet. The young woman's head felt it was being squeezed by a leather strap, but she arched her back, bones popped.

She heard a log crack in the fireplace. Klaus' eyes burned gold as he appeared out of the shadows in the room momentarily taking Bonnie off guard. He crossed over to her, standing far too close for comfort, but she resisted the urge to shrink away.

The hybrid wore his customary smile. It didn't inspire a single drop of friendliness in Bonnie who tempered the need to pummel him for kidnapping her. She'd get to that in a moment.

"Why'd you bring me here?"

The titillating sound of her heart beating made Klaus' ears twitched.

He answered her query. "I brought you here to show you how unprotected you leave yourself, Bonnie. That regardless of how powerful you are, you're still _weak._" Bonnie flinched at that word. She hated that word. "You're still so easy to get to."

"Yeah, well last I remember I was sleeping, which means yeah, I'll probably be a _little_ vulnerable. Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to get to me."

Klaus' grin deepened. "So you believe." He rushed her to the nearest wall, her squeak of surprise proving his point. He held his forearm across her chest that swelled and deflated with each angry breath she inhaled.

Bonnie glared and threw out a spell that yanked Klaus off of her and hurtled him into the farthest wall. He landed on both feet much to her chagrin and wiped plaster, flecks of dry wall, and dust off the shoulders of his shirt.

"Is that the _best_ you can do, witch? After everything you've done and experienced you can't do more than magically push someone off you."

"I'm being kind, Klaus." Fire erupted from Bonnie's nail beds.

That certainly caught the Hybrid's eye. "Something tells me you can't afford to be kind. You have the means to be wicked," he was in front of Bonnie again.

She extinguished the flames. "I'm not interested in being wicked. But I am interested in you delivering what you promised me. I don't have time for a pissing contest."

A rare noise escaped Klaus' ruby red lips. A laugh. "You think I brought you here to play games? Well, you'd be halfway right."

"Seriously, tell me why the hell you brought me here?!"

Klaus was about to say something but green ivy leaves and red dahlia flowers began growing along the crown molding on the walls.

Bonnie noticed in the dim light. "What the hell?"

"It would appear our guest has arrived."

"Guest?"

The door swung open and a woman marched through it wearing a dark coat. Bonnie felt like she had been thrown sideways. The sheer amount of power beaming off the woman who was undoubtedly a witch and one so strong Bonnie's knees nearly buckled under the onslaught.

_That! _That was what she wanted.

Bonnie stiffened as the woman stared at her, taking her measure. Beauty wasn't the woman's greatest asset, and not one she wielded as a weapon. She was a plain looking woman to the young witch, but her eyes—the size of them was larger than a human's, almost wolf like with their strange color. Her brown hair fell in one length to her breasts, thin lips outlined by wrinkles, her nose almost beak-like. For as unassuming as the witch appeared, it would be a grave mistake and the cost of your life to underestimate her. That didn't need to be vocalized. It thrummed potently from the woman. Even Klaus shrank away, infinitesimally.

"Bonnie," Klaus began the introductions, "I'd like you to meet Dahlia. Dahlia this is the young Bennett witch I was telling you about."

"H-hi," Bonnie stuttered and coughed to clear her throat.

Dahlia said nothing but waved her fingers in the direction of the door telling Klaus to get out without uttering a word.

His face scrunched in displeasure but he didn't argue. For a second Bonnie almost cried out for him to stay, but the fleeting moment passed.

"Come closer, child," Dahlia prompted in a cultured accent that was hard to place.

Even her voice seemed imbued with power, Bonnie thought as she walked over to Dahlia unconsciously because she didn't exactly feel herself moving.

Standing closer, Bonnie forced her spine to remain straight, told herself not to cower. Dahlia didn't seem the type to have the patience for the faint of heart, and she didn't seem to relish in the fear those displayed in her presence, either. In fact, she seemed above a lot of things mostly because she was untouchable. She knew a thousand ways to kill someone and that knowledge reflected in her eyes.

"Give me your hand," Dahlia instructed next.

Without hesitation, Bonnie placed her hand in Dahlia's who pricked her index finger with something sharp. She wiped the drop of blood that formed and tasted it.

Bonnie ordered her face not to shrivel.

"Hmm," Dahlia's irises glittered. "Your blood is...nearly as ancient as mine."

"I have my ancestor Qetsiyah's magic in me."

"No, that's not what I mean. No one has ever told you what you really are."

That wasn't a question but an observation, Bonnie knew. "No one knows who I am. Myself included."

Dahlia nodded in understanding. "Ignorance is the death of many witches. My nephew is right. You _do _need my help."

"Nephew?"

"Niklaus is my sister Esther's bastard. I'm sure you know this, the bastard part I mean."

"You're Esther's sister?" Bonnie shrieked incredulously. Did that mean this chick was on the same level of craziness as her sister? Probably, hell she might even be worse.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Dahlia frowned, severely.

Dahlia released Bonnie's hand. "An inconsequential fact of truth, but not the matter at hand. I don't make it a habit to help those without getting something in return."

Bonnie prevented her eye roll with everything she had. Would it always be tit for tat when it comes to Klaus and his family?

"However, I see something in your eyes, Bonnie. You don't want to hone your craft for frivolous reasons, and you're not obsessed with power," Dahlia began to circle her. "There's fear in you…hatred, and you want them both gone. I will push you in ways, Bonnie that will seem cruel because they _are_ cruel. They will break you not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, but nothing again in this world or the next will be able to touch you. If you're not ready for that then here is your one and only chance to refuse my help."

Dahlia faced Bonnie head on.

The women's gazes didn't waver. Bonnie inhaled, "I've been told repeatedly how powerful my family is but I've only been shown the opposite. I need training because…because I'm tired of my magic ruling me and everyone around me ruling my magic. I can handle whatever you throw at me."

Dahlia smirked in approval. "Well then, we start when the moon is high tomorrow night. Use your magic to find me, witchling."

Anxiety flooded Bonnie the minute Dahlia left the room. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

Klaus reappeared, tumbler of blood in his hand. "You haven't forgotten what tonight is, have you?"

Bonnie sighed heavily. "The spring masquerade."

"There's no need for you to return to your little hovel at the B&amp;B. Everything you need is right upstairs. Be ready no later than eight o'clock. In the meantime help yourself to these," Klaus removed a damask cloth off a table to reveal seven grimoires. He departed with a wink.

* * *

Another call routed straight to voicemail. Elena Gilbert blew out a breath and infused joy into her voice as she left a message for Bonnie. "Hey it's me. We haven't really touched based and that's my fault. Give me a call back when you get this. I hope you're okay."

She was distracted prior to hanging up as Damon traversed out of his closet and over to the full length mirror.

Elena wondered if she would ever get to a point where she'd take his hotness for granted, but watching Damon as he knotted his tie the likelihood of that happening seemed nil. She found her thoughts ridiculous at times how the simple things he did could turn her on, like putting lotion on his arms. She wasn't a prepubescent teen with a crush, but a 20-ish immortal falling in love with someone she had her memories of, erased.

Remnants from last night's dinner bounced around in Elena's head. She was pretty sure Lily hated her—or at least hated the fact she dated both of her sons. Damon had been distracted the last twelve hours hardly standing still long enough for them to talk. Yes, he had a lot on his plate, but she wished he would unload some of his burdens on her. There was more to her than what was between her legs.

However staring at him gave her a one track mind. Damon's kiss made her womb clench, his touch incited butterflies, his smile liquefied her soul, his dick could make her come for hours. Damon was a sexual superconductor in a Brioni tux.

They were slated to go to the spring masquerade, but her traitorous thoughts wanted the both of them to remain sequestered in his bedroom.

Elena stood behind Damon in an instant, arms going around his middle, mindful not to smudge makeup on his shirt. "We have time," she whispered.

A telltale grin bloomed, "Fiend," he teased.

"Our presence won't be missed if we don't go."

"I need to keep tabs on my mother. She'll be there tonight as well as Bonnie."

Oh wow I should know that, Elena mused shamefully. "I should know that my best friend will be there. I've barely hung out with Bonnie and after the hell she's gone through…what's wrong with me, Damon?"

Damon pried Elena's arms from around his middle and slipped his into his tuxedo jacket. "Instead of lamenting about what a piss poor friend you've been why don't you just be one." Elena blinked at his frankness. "We need to go."

* * *

In a second floor bedroom, Bonnie ran her fingers over the diaphanous skirt of her gown. A soft tap precipitated the door's opening which she disregarded in favor of watching people bottleneck inside of the estate.

She caught sight of a specific couple emerging from the back of a stretch limo. Her stomach churned uneasily.

"Oh, don't they make quite the pair. I'm surprised they've lasted this long. Suppose I underestimated the doppelganger's codependency."

Bonnie abandoned the windows and resumed putting the finishing touches to her attire. Her throat bobbed as she hooked an earring into her lobe.

Klaus kept her within sight. "You…never seen you look more beautiful."

"Thanks."

"And I'm sure heads will turn."

"I'm sure they will if you hit them right."

The Original laughed and sobered. "How did you find my aunt?"

"Scary."

Klaus elevated an eyebrow but it did little to subtract from the mirth dancing in his blue irises. "Did you expect anything less when it comes to a member of my family?"

Bonnie shook her head. Her talk with Dahlia weighed heavily on Bonnie's mind. Outside of the anxiousness the older sorceress stirred, Sheila Bennett's granddaughter couldn't deny she was looking forward to whatever Dahlia planned to teach her. Making stuff float, catch on fire, or break had pretty much been the crux of her expertise in the beginning. Then her magic matriculated but it wasn't at a pace Bonnie sanctioned. She was ready to graduate, but on her terms.

"Ready?" Klaus' eyes were glued to everything below her neck.

"I've attended my own funeral but I'm not ready for this."

Klaus smirked and held out his arm. Squaring her shoulders, Bonnie marched up to the hybrid and slid hers around the proffered limb.

"If at any point I'm inappropriate…I blame that dress."

A nervous laugh slipped out before Bonnie could stop it. Oh, joy.

* * *

Glasses clinked together spilling frothy bubbles on skin. Peels of laughter competed to be heard over enthusiastic chatter where everyone sounded like they were speaking in exclamation points.

Gloved hands reached excitedly for samples of delicacies never before tasted, morsels of gourmet cuisine sliding down throats draped in crystals or cinched in bow ties. Servers dressed as 17th century English courtiers flitted around with gilded trays balanced perfectly on fingertips. It was a lavish affair, the best masquerade ball yet according to the gossip.

Damon happened to look up to the second story of the palatial estate, saw a curtain flutter. With Elena on his arm they followed the flow of traffic inside. It never failed to amaze the blue-eyed vampire how it took so little to impress the people of this town. Their simplicity and ignorance he found grating, but would trade what he knew to be like them. If he could keep the speed, regeneration, and ageless face then he'd be all for it.

He wrestled up drinks, passing a flute of Dom to Elena. He stared at her in the corseted brocade gown amazed at his luck that he could have the girl of his dreams and things were good between them. Yes, he was hiding a secret, but it would be revealed in time, and almost may have kissed her (his) best friend, but he didn't. However, guilt plagued him as if he had.

Damon dropped a kiss on Elena's cheek as a distraction. Her eyes sparkled through the gold face mask she wore.

Covertly, Damon stretched his neck locking on anyone with a caramel complexion. Much too soon he and Elena were back outside. The weather was cool and didn't bother either of them, but quite a few women were shivering in their wraps whereas men stuffed their hands in their tailored pants pockets.

Braziers had been strategically placed throughout the lawn making jeweled gowns and masks glow.

"Do you see Bonnie anywhere?" Elena asked.

Damon shook his head. "I'm sure she'll be here soon enough. Let's go mingle."

Right before they could do as he suggested, Jo and Alaric made their way over to them, a third party trailing behind.

Fireworks exploded in the sky drawing the crowd's attention, quieting conversations. People oohed and awed, many popped out their phones to record the multihued display absorbing the festivities through the lens of a touchscreen rather than the lens of their eye.

"You guys finally made it," Alaric said. "Let me introduce you to Jo's friend, Dr. Evan O'Neal."

Remembering to don his 'human' robes, Damon extended his hand for a shake towards the physician. "Nice to meet you, I'm Damon Salvatore."

"Pleasure."

Out of Damon's peripheral, he caught sight of two figures standing at the top of the stairs that led from the posterior of the house to the lawn.

He did a double take, eyes bulging as he watched.

There was no mistaking that the masked figure was Klaus, damn dimples could be seen from a mile away. Yet Damon's gaze was inexplicably drawn to the woman latched on the hybrid's arm.

Dressed in a gown in the deepest shade of purple known to man that the fabric looked black, it moved like liquid silk around her form. Every time she took a step her entire left leg was exposed in a near crotch high split. The shoulder straps led down to the bosom and crisscrossed over her breasts but left an inverted triangle of skin exposed in her midsection right above her navel where the gown was intricately belted.

Her makeup was the most dramatic he had ever seen it. Full lips painted a shocking shade of black; her lids were a myriad of golds, browns and long, thick lashes. The witch's hair was piled in an ornate updo decorated with gold and diamond hair pins.

By accident, Damon squeezed the long forgotten hand in his, breaking bones. A chorus of expletives was tossed in the air like confetti barely registering with the stunned vampire.

"Damon let go of his gotdamn hand!" Alaric howled. "You're breaking it!"

"What?" he whirled his attention back to Alaric and finally took stock of the death grip he had on Dr. O'Neal. He instantly let go after seeing the man's molten face. "Sorry."

Silently crying and biting into his lips, Evan shuffled from foot to foot. Jo quickly assumed control and ushered the injured doctor away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alaric demanded.

What was wrong with him? Plenty. The first, Bonnie and Klaus. The second…that dress.

**A/N: Cliffhangers, we hate em, I know but I just ran out of steam guys, and so much happened in this chapter. Thanks for reading, please review. I really had a time with this, rewriting it multiple times. So please, feedback won't make it feel I did all this stressing in vain. **

**Translations: **

**1) I will use your blood whore of a girlfriend against you.**

**2) She's so eager for approval she'll help me. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I had a speech prepared but the Bamon scenes in 7x01, though there were moments I cringed, other times had me melt into fangirl heaven and that's ALL due to Kat and Ian's acting. I'm operating on a millimeter of chill, so enjoy this.**

* * *

The world could sometimes be a flavorless place. A place without order, meaning, or purpose. A place where people passed from one existence to another with barely a notice. It could be cruel in its complexities, unfavorable, a sweatshop.

But then…

There could be moments like this. Where there was color, life, vibrancy, love. Where fear was uninvited and happiness was the drug of choice.

Oftentimes many were stuck in the middle. They were content, complacent, accepted what they had and didn't try to press for more. They saw the glass as half-empty and half-full, accepted both outcomes with little strain, stress, or struggle. They could roll with the punches or get critical at the punches, but ultimately figured the punches were an inevitable side effect for simply being alive.

At the heart of it all she stood. Her eyes were planted on the nighttime sky marveling at the bright fireworks, but each time they exploded it made her jump. The loud _boom _of colorful gunpowder was like a substitute form of an arrow and knife though her stomach.

Bonnie Bennett had been back in the swing of things for a month, carefully reintegrating into society. Other than the rave which ended in disaster, the frat party, this was the next big event she was attending. The house was teaming with people; most she's known her entire life while plenty more were virtual strangers. Masked strangers who were laughing, cheering, whistling causing as much noise as the explosion of fireworks up above.

Dizziness overwhelmed Bonnie when she surveyed the crowd. The concrete under her feet disappeared and the lawn stretched until it blurred completely, her body felt weightless. Bonnie blinked rapidly, breathing spastic. Klaus was saying something, but she was spiraling to a place unreachable by anyone who wasn't a licensed mental health professional.

This was a mistake.

Damon, who had been mean mugging her from the moment he recognized her, his face evened out into one of concern.

"Ohmygod, Bonnie?" Elena gasped finally recognizing her friend.

Adrenaline dictated that he trample through the crowd in order to get to the little witch, but decorum stated he should be tactful about this. However, Damon could see Bonnie was in trouble, was on the verge of freaking out.

"She's into hybrids now? Damn…well I guess that's an upgrade from whiny mediums with a steroid problem. But I must say…Bonnie is wearing the _fuck _out of that dress."

"Stefan?" Elena breathed his name in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Great, Damon groused mentally. This was turning into a smashing night full of bullshit and…he may have concurred with his brother's statement. That was neither here nor there.

"Me passing up the opportunity to party, feed, and fuck? I wouldn't miss this for the world." Stefan boldly ogled Elena and dragged his tongue along his bottom lip.

Elena did what she could to temper having any reaction, but couldn't deny a small spark of…something heated her insides. However, she forwent smiling or encouraging Stefan in any capacity. It wouldn't matter in the state he was in.

By the time Elena pulled her gaze away from him she noticed that her boyfriend was missing and, when she checked the top of the stairs where Bonnie had been poised next to Klaus…she was missing too.

* * *

Wind whistled loudly in her ears and she clung to the steel arm braced against her ribs.

His nose led him to the upstairs bedroom Bonnie used to change. He heard Klaus stomping after them, but managed to reach the room and pushed Bonnie inside.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Damon shut the door at the same time as Klaus' arrival.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the hybrid began without preamble.

"Klaus-y poo didn't know you would be here," Damon flashed a hard smile. "Bonnie isn't feeling well. Give her a minute to get herself together."

"She seemed perfectly fine to me, but if she is experiencing any kind of discomfort, as her _date_ it's my responsibility to handle it."

The grin on Damon's face was full of snark. "Or perhaps _you_ as her date are the cause of her distress. Give her a minute, _hybrid_."

Klaus studied Damon anew. He had never been terribly difficult to read as his intentions were so readily accessible on his sleeve. Yet this was a different side to the eldest Salvatore the Original never thought he'd live long enough to actually witness.

"If this isn't an interesting change," Klaus flicked the end of his nose. "As I'm sure the last I saw you and the Bennett witch you were more than willing to sacrifice her life…"

"There's so much you missed, but none of that is the fucking point. What goes down between me and the witch is _our _business."

"So there's a you and the witch now, is it?"

Damon understood he was being baited and typically rose to the occasion, but this time he wasn't going there. On the other side of the door, Bonnie was in her head and he needed to get her out of it before she did something that would leave a lovely mess to clean up. Not that he cared if any of Klaus' shit got destroyed.

Neither handsomely dressed immortal backed down or looked away from the other. Forewent calling a ceasefire when they heard the soft tap of heels on the marble floor.

"Hey…what's going on?" Elena inquired. "What happened to Bonnie?"

"That's what I'm trying to get to the bottom of," Klaus answered and shifted to face her. "That's a beautiful dress, Elena. A little plain and ordinary but matches its owner perfectly."

Elena frowned at the backhanded compliment. "Klaus…that suit goes well with the bridge you climbed out from under."

Klaus laughed boisterously. "I bet it took you _months_ to come up with that. Bravo," he winked and redirected back to Damon. "Step aside."

"No," Damon shook his head. "Both of you leave. I got this."

Elena opened her mouth to protest, "If something is wrong with Bonnie…I should be the one to talk to her."

"Look, I don't have time to debate this," Damon finalized. He knew Klaus didn't really care either way and just wanted to be an ass. Elena…her heart might often be in the right place, but she had a talent for making everything into something about her. He wasn't so in love with her not to see her faults. Besides, that wasn't what Bonnie needed. _They _weren't what Bonnie needed.

Like a phantom Damon fled inside the bedroom locking the door after him.

Bonnie sat perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders drawn, gaze averted to the window adjacent to the headboard. She released a shaky breath, "I should be used to loud noises…and crowds of people by now."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Damon crossed the room. "You can't rush recovery, Bonnie. It's something that you have to deal with day by day. There'll be days where you're fine and days where it feels like you're right back where you started…or worse."

The air was punctuated by silence until Bonnie spoke again, gaze still averted. "How am I going to be ready to fight Kai, if it ever comes down to that, if I can't handle fireworks?" a depreciating laugh escaped her lips. She used the back of her hand to wipe away a tear.

Standing in front of her, Damon briefly got lost in the pool of fabric bunched around her designer heels, and Bonnie's exposed left leg. It was just so curvy. Damon lowered on his haunches, clearing his throat. His large hands gathered her smaller ones. It took another minute of pained silence before she could manage to look him straight in the eye.

The tip of Damon's tongue moistened the seam of his lips, "First, stop hinging your ability to fight on how you feel. Your emotions will have you forfeiting before you even start. You're doing much better than you think you are, Bonnie."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not!"

Damon braced himself for something dramatic to happen like the window shattering, or a fire erupting in the hearth, or himself being thrust into a wall. Instead, Bonnie unintentionally sank her nails into his hands. The sharp pain, he could handle. The pain written on her face was another story.

Bonnie swallowed, "I didn't tell you…later that morning after you compelled Hayden and when he and I"—Damon noticed her cheeks reddened—"I hallucinated it was Kai on top of me," she breathed shallowly, "and I blitzed on Hayden. I didn't hurt him or anything. I had a panic attack and tried to leave but he talked me into staying, didn't trust I could drive safely. If I'm not feeling like I _have _to save everyone, if I'm not feeling scared and defeated, then I'm feeling like I'm going to lose my mind. It's just," Bonnie wiggled one of her hands free and touched her chest, "I feel like something in me is _so_ broken that even if I managed to kill Kai it wouldn't be fixed."

Damon understood what Bonnie meant and wished he had an answer for her that would magically make her problems vanish. Consequently, he had a feeling that whatever was broken in Bonnie he had been instrumental in making the first crack.

His unoccupied hand dropped to his thigh before unconsciously smoothing up Bonnie's calf who didn't seem to notice. It vaguely occurred to the vampire her skin was like silk.

"I'd like to say you're not broken, Bonnie, but I'm not you and I can't speak on how you feel. I can only listen to you and…try to help you not feel broken."

"How? How are you going to swing that?"

"I don't know," Damon guffawed sheepishly. "I'm sure I'll think of something. Although you know I'm several cards short of a full deck."

"True."

"I didn't need an amen on that."

Bonnie giggled a little.

"Seriously, Bon if you need to talk, vent, break some laws you know I'm here for you."

"I know," Bonnie dried her eyes. "Thank you."

Damon made one of his signature faces, "I don't need any thanks. In this fucked up story of ours, you're the true hero, Bon. So _thank you._"

The center of Bonnie's chest warmed yet she downplayed the sensation. "A sincere thank you from Damon Salvatore. I'm sure someone out in the universe just lost a bet."

"Shaddup," he tickled her ribs.

Bonnie squirmed and almost kneed Damon in the chest. "Stop it!" she howled, laughing.

Damon didn't, naturally, until he was good and ready. He stopped when it began to register just how warm her skin was. How good she smelled. Damon drew his hands back as his mind began to cloud with things they shouldn't. He waited as Bonnie composed herself. Much to his dismay she flared out the skirt to her gown covering up that awe-inspiring leg of hers.

"Now," he pulled at his bowtie, "are you ready to explain to me why you're here as Klaus' date, and why you omitted he would be here to start with?"

"Before we get into that…do I look nice?"

Damon blinked rapidly a few times. "Hun?"

"Stop acting like you have a hearing problem. Do I look nice?" Bonnie pushed him away a little so she could stand. Damon followed suit.

Air rushed out of Damon's nostrils as he absorbed the picture his best friend made. Her svelte, caramel body draped in dark purple diaphanous fabric, the flawless makeup that made her most stunning features leap forward like 3-D, her dark hair swept off her neck which his fingers itched to unravel. It came to Damon several seconds too late he shouldn't be studying Bonnie the way he was.

She wanted him to tell her if she looked nice? Nice was reserved for those who tried too hard and still missed the mark. Nice is what you called something or someone when nothing more positive came to mind. Bonnie didn't look _nice. _She looked nice in a ratty pair of pajamas. And that dress certainly wasn't a pair of ratty pajamas.

Bonnie waited for Damon to say something. His silence was making her insecurities stir. Maybe he thought she looked trashy and was trying to find the best way to tell her without downright insulting or hurting her feelings. Bonnie fought not to stare at her feet, to shrink away. She kept her orbs locked with Damon's, a defiant glaze altering the color of her irises.

"If I tell you how you look in that dress…by some's standards it could be construed as cheating," Damon nervously scratched his neck with his thumbnail.

"What are you saying?"

The old him would have closed the gap between them, bent his knees a bit so he could whisper in her ear that she was the _sexiest_ fucking woman at this ball, and he'd beg for a chance to see what was underneath that dress. But he couldn't say that because it was Bonnie and he was a committed man. He could look but not touch. Tasting and swallowing weren't permitted under any regulations as well.

Instead Damon revealed, "I'm saying, Bonnie that I should keep my thoughts and…other parts to myself," his jaw hardened. "You're stunning."

Bonnie beamed in pleasure.

"But…that still doesn't excuse the fact you're here acting as Klaus' date. I thought we agreed not to keep secrets."

"We did," Bonnie cleared her throat finding herself inexplicably affected by Damon's words and proximity.

It was bad enough he could make a simple outfit look like he was strutting around in a tailored suit. Seeing him in a tux was criminal, upsetting her ability to remain detached, indifferent to his preternatural looks. It made dealing with Damon bearable when she didn't look at him how other women did. Hoping he might spare them a glance, gift them with a smile that could make toes curl. Yet here she was finding herself susceptible. Bonnie didn't want to think about how good he smelled, or how curious she was about what was under the suit. Those thoughts were forbidden because he was with her best friend, and _they_ were friends and that would just lead to a road of trouble.

"So why didn't you tell me?" Damon persisted, fingering her chandelier earring. "I came through on my end proving I can be trusted."

"Maybe I didn't tell you because… Look," Bonnie straightened his bowtie. "Klaus has provided me with grimoires and connected me to a witch who's going to help me get stronger. Being his date is the least I could do to pay him back. He didn't have to help me."

No, Klaus didn't. However, Damon knew strings, twisted and dark ones were always attached to any favor Klaus doled out. It went without saying Bonnie's debt repayment wouldn't just begin and end with being arm candy for the night. That wasn't insidious enough for the hybrid's taste.

"How long is he going to be in town?"

"I don't know," Bonnie answered, skirted around Damon to check her appearance in the mirror. She snatched a tissue and dabbed her face.

Damon watched, gaze affixed on the birthmark on her shoulder. "And this witch…what's her name? What's she like?"

The fucking twenty questions, Bonnie thought sardonically, yet answered promptly.

"Her name is Dahlia and she's frightening in the way you don't want to cross her to find out what she'd do."

"Sounds like a dream."

Just then, loud, persistent banging interrupted their moment. Bonnie jumped; Damon scowled.

"You've hogged her long enough, Salvatore. I've enough ratchetness in me to break this door down."

Rolling her eyes, Bonnie unlocked the door, glowering at Klaus whose brows were drawn together in consternation.

He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

Seeing her plight as unavoidable, Bonnie looped her hand around Klaus' bicep. They took two steps before her other was captured by Damon whom she stared up at in shock. He silently dared Klaus to make a scene or use force to get him to drop his hold on Bonnie, but the Original snorted and proceeded down the hall and finally out to the backyard once more.

All eyes were on them.

"Ready?" Klaus inquired.

A sea of faces gawked, some lifted their masks for a better look; the rest seemed to be mesmerized like children watching an illusion unfold. Holding on to her…date(s) Bonnie slowly descended the steps.

"Hot damn," one man exclaimed. A blush converged on Bonnie's cheeks.

Another was bolder, presented Bonnie with a bouquet of flamingo pink rhododendron flowers. The attention and flattery she was unused to, but she smiled shyly anyways knowing it was inevitable mainly because of the dress she was wearing. It was easy enough to move in but was more provocative than she preferred.

Once their feet hit the grass, Damon turned, kissed her knuckles and threw a warning glare at Klaus to behave himself before searching for his own date.

Klaus took the bouquet out of Bonnie's hand examining them.

"Do you mind?"

"They are pretty but carry a significant meaning." Bonnie waited for Klaus to cough up the details. He tossed the bouquet in one of the roaring tripods. "Beware," he said ominously.

"Beware?" she questioned and craned her neck to see if she could locate the person who gave her those flowers.

Klaus' insistent tugging to the center of the dance floor cancelled her search. Stage fright shackled onto Bonnie's nerves. She highly thought about dematerializing into vapor. Heat stung her face.

"Don't focus on them. Focus on me, love," Klaus encouraged.

"I don't want to look at you, either."

Klaus bit back a smile, pulled Bonnie closer, his hand flattened along the small of her back. His touch slightly unnerving and weirdly comforting. He led them into a Viennese waltz.

Bonnie stumbled because ballroom dancing was not her thing. Forget about the numerous galas she attended. Once the dancing commenced she hung around the sidelines. This was _way _out of her comfort zone and expertise.

"Eyes on me, Bonnie."

Inwardly she growled but finally gave the Original her undivided attention. Did his regard have to be so direct and intense? But as Bonnie continued to hold his penetrating stare, her feet moved, whisking over the floor as if they were born to do just this. Like they were natural partners leading and following wordlessly, making adjustments without crunching toes or bumping knees. It was disconcerting how in sync they could be.

Klaus spun her around, dipped Bonnie amid applause.

"I heard most of your conversation with Damon," Klaus shared.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I'm not surprised. You can be worse than a middle schooler with a piece of gossip."

Dimples on display, Klaus twirled his date around and pulled her into his chest. "Our history being what it is I can still respect you, Bonnie. Respect you for your power, even for your humanity. Yet there's something on the inside blocking you, and if you want to get to the root cause of it…well you might want to start airing out your dirty laundry with those in your life."

"Pardon me? Since when do you give _anyone_ advice that doesn't lead straight to their death?"

Klaus was thinking of all the psycho-babble he endured in spending time with Camille O'Connor. Apparently some of her methods to cure him of his madness slithered past his obstinacy. Much to his chagrin.

"Wouldn't you find me even more boorish that after a thousand years of living and there was _still_ not a shred of depth to me? I understand far more than anyone will ever know, and what I reveal to others will always be at my discretion. You and I are alike in that way."

Bonnie made a face. She didn't want to have anything in common with Klaus.

"But you know what I enjoy?" he asked. "Telling my enemies and even my family _exactly _what I think of them. You leave that bottled in and it makes it so easy for people to take advantage of you. And I think that's one of your fears, Bonnie. Being taken advantage of. So root out who makes you feel that way and _deal_ with them. You'll feel all the better for it."

She smiled icily. "I remember telling _you_ that you bothered me, and you still do."

Klaus grinned in return. "I thought you were merely flirting with me."

Sooner than anticipated the waltz morphed into a rumba. The Original and Bonnie transitioned easily.

"I would tell you to start with Salvatore but you already have him wrapped around your finger," Klaus whispered in her ear.

A small smile slithered across Bonnie's impassive borders. Of their own volition, her olive irises went over to Damon easily spotting him in a crowd. He stood among his brother and Elena looking the antithesis of happy.

* * *

She wiggled uncomfortably in her off the shoulder cocktail dress. Lily Salvatore tightened her silk wrap around her shoulders and moved quietly through the corridors of the Mikaelson estate in awe of the modern architecture mixed in with old world furnishings.

Tonight brought back memories of being laced into hand stitched gowns, the prick of painfully sharp hair pins stabbing her scalp while her hair was styled in a ridiculously towering do that caused her neck to ache on end for hours. Lily remembered slipping into her gloves, pearls, her silk high-heeled slippers, and walking through gilded and candlelit halls before being twirled around the grand ballroom dancing to live orchestra music.

The spaces beneath her eyes superheated and her gums itched. Humans walked past her ignorant of the threat she posed. Lily found herself ensnared, staring at their beautiful, breakable skin, inhaled their mouth-watering scents—which the people of this time smelled _far _better than those during the 19th and 20th century—her ears twitched with every beat of their hearts that it was all she could hear or think about.

Lily swallowed and her throat burned. Since being here she held fast to her regime of only having a few drops of blood a day. Lily didn't trust herself to consume an entire blood bag, deftly afraid if she indulged she wouldn't stop indulging. Without her family—her _true_ family there to make sure she never tipped over the edge, she couldn't risk it. And that's why it was imperative she speak with the Bonnie girl and get her to see her plight. Understand the ramifications of what would happen to the people of this town, the world over if she was without her family any longer.

Right now though, Lily needed air. She abandoned the warm halls of the residence and traveled outside to the backyard. With her impeccable eyesight, Lily easily spotted her eldest son. He seemed to be transfixed with someone and it wasn't the waif standing next to him. Turning her head, Lily found the answer to her own riddle.

It was Bonnie…in a dress only a courtesan of her time would be brazen enough to wear. Instead of blushing in embarrassment for the girl, Lily felt…an odd sense of pride for Bonnie's boldness and audacity. She didn't strike the type to be comfortable with wearing something that exposed so much, but Lily conceded she knew next to nothing about the young witch to start with. What was incontrovertible was Bonnie being invaluable to Damon. He liked—no he loved her and wanted to protect her, which spoke volumes.

Now standing among the group, Lily looked between her sons. "Boys."

Stefan stared at her blankly. "Mother."

Damon said nothing. He was too busy stealing peeks at Bonnie from the corner of his eye. Elena perked up at seeing Lily.

"Mrs. Salvatore…wow you look amazing."

Lily smiled wanly at the compliment. She eyed Elena who did her best to remain standing tall. "Thank you. I see there's one thing you know how to do well. Be a well-dressed doll." Lily addressed Stefan next, "I'm surprised to see you here. Out and about in society."

"I don't know why you're surprised. Society is, after all, my buffet."

"Perhaps tonight you might think it appropriate to go on a fast."

Stefan snorted derisively. "From one ripper to another you'll excuse me if I call your advice bullshit. Excuse me."

Lily wasn't hurt or affected by Stefan's words. She didn't have the energy to reach him, and curing him of his inhumanity wasn't her endgame. If he fed on a human or two what was it to her? She hadn't been his mother in well over a hundred years. Lily saw little point in starting now.

"I think I'll go speak with Miss Bonnie," Lily gathered the ends of her dress so she wouldn't trip, but then realized it stopped right below her calves. Her ankles were showing which made her feel naked.

Lily grimaced and moved to walk away but Damon caught her by the arm.

"I could have sworn we _already_ had this discussion about you not going anywhere near Bonnie. I suggest you remember that."

"And I could have sworn I spelled it out what would happen if you tried to interfere. As your brother said…your advice is bullshit."

Hearing his mother curse inspired chuckles to come out of Damon, but he hadn't relinquished her pale white limb.

"Damon," Elena called hoping to diffuse a possible scene. "Stop."

"Listen to the waif, son. We wouldn't want to out certain secrets in this gathering, would we?" Lily raised a challenging brow.

Damon called her bluff. "You wouldn't."

Red veins overtook the whites of her eyes, and when Lily parted her lips her fangs were visible. Someone walking by gawked.

"I haven't fed all day."

Defiantly, Damon held on a little longer but finally gave in, let his mother go. Her face returned to normal and she flitted elsewhere.

"I need a drink," Damon tugged down the end of his jacket. "Excuse me."

"I'll come with you."

"No, stay here and keep an eye on things."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, hunger and thirst dictated that Bonnie abandon her dance partner. She weaved her way through the condensed crowd over to a refreshments table and snagged a glass of bubbly and a small crab cake she popped in her mouth. Her taste buds exploded, and she helped herself to another before meandering to a table to rest her feet. Bonnie wasn't alone for five minutes before her solitude was interrupted.

"Mind if I sit?"

Her eyes crashed into russet orbs. "No, help yourself."

Elena smiled as she pulled out the chair next to Bonnie and dumped her butt on it.

This was their first time seeing each other and to say it was awkward would be an understatement.

"I didn't get to tell you this before but you look really amazing, Bonnie."

"Thank you. You do, too."

They grew silent again.

"So," Elena exaggerated the word, "you're Klaus' date? I didn't see that coming."

"Neither did I."

It had been surreal for Elena to see two men on Bonnie's arms, granted one of those men happened to be her boyfriend and the other their enemy; they were men nonetheless. It almost triggered a memory in Elena that never quite came to fruition as if she were experiencing mental constipation. Seeing her friend so fierce and sexy it made Elena kind of recognize for the first time Bonnie was coming out of the shadows and coming into her own, and if you weren't prepared for that you were going to be left behind.

For Bonnie things were bittersweet. The strain between herself and Elena had never been this bad before. They had hit rough patches sure, but went right back to being giggling, naïve girls who thought they had the world figured out. Now, too much had happened for them to rebuild what they had and at this point Bonnie was too mentally exhausted to try. Intrinsically it wasn't Klaus Elena was so interested in hearing about, Bonnie knew. She could tell that Elena was looking for the most tactful way to question her friendship with Damon but didn't want to come off rude, insensitive, or jealous.

The man of the hour flitted past their table dancing with the newest anchorwoman. Elena lifted a brow whereas Bonnie snickered a bit especially when Damon had to reach behind him to stop the woman's hand from grabbing his ass.

"I swear I can't take him anywhere," Elena remarked dryly.

"No, you can't."

"This is strange. Being at one of these things and no one's life is in danger."

"Well the nights still young."

Elena shifted on the padded chair, "Are you feeling okay, Bonnie?"

She sipped her champagne before replying, "Are you really interested in my answer?"

The implication that she may not care piqued Elena. "Of course. I know I've been preoccupied lately, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what's going on with you."

"But what _is _going on with me, Elena?"

The doppelgänger fidgeted, unsure. "I can only assume that you're still adjusting to being home, and I know Lily wants to talk to you about freeing her family. Anything else...I can't say. In all fairness you haven't been opening up to me, either.

"You never question why I don't."

"Why you don't confide in me? I…don't know."

Bonnie snorted. "It never crossed your mind to question why I suddenly went from telling you everything about my life, to hardly letting you in beyond the front door?"

"I…" Elena moistened her lips and if she were still human her temperature would be steadily rising. "All I remember is…after Grams died you told me not to force you to choose, and so I took it to mean there were certain things you didn't want to discuss."

The witch adjusted in her seat facing her head on. "But even after I got over my vampire bias…the communication between us, Elena _always _remained one-sided where a majority of the time was spent talking about your problems and trying to save your life. It felt like…if I weren't a witch I wouldn't have mattered to you at all."

"Bonnie, that's not true! How could…okay…I can see why you'd think you didn't matter to me, but I was…"

"I don't need any excuses."

Hot air rushed through Elena's nostrils. She really had no idea where any of this was coming from and why now. Bonnie had been visibly upset earlier, and as a friend Elena wanted to check to see if she were all right. It never crossed her mind that _she _might be part of whatever was bothering Bonnie.

"Then what do you need, Bonnie because I don't know where any of this is coming from or what you want from me? I just know there were times where I asked you if you were doing okay, and you told me you were fine and I didn't want to push because you had so much on your plate to deal with. I do apologize for not being there for you like you've always been there for me, but that's in the past and we can't go back and change it. All we can do is move forward."

Bonnie smiled sadly, finished off her champagne, and got to her feet. "It's so easy for you to move forward when you don't remember what happened in the past. Not all of us have the luxury of taking the easy way out, or having our problems handled for us. Excuse me," she wandered off to another area of the backyard.

* * *

_This party is gotdamn boring_, Stefan lamented killing another bottle of champagne. He had done away with drinking out of a glass long ago. His mother was here—the old hag—trying not to look too bright-eyed and out of her element. He snorted before giving his attention to his brother who finally managed to pry that anchorwoman's hands off of him. She was no Andie Starr but he'd fuck her. Next he spied Elena taking in periodic gulps of air. Aww, was she trying not to cry about something.

The old him probably would have seized that as his golden opportunity to throw subtle shade that Elena had made the wrong choice in brother since he knew how to appeal to her falsely bleeding heart. Now, he didn't give a flying fig what bothered her or the source of her angst. The more in misery the merrier.

Finally, Stefan brought his gaze to Bonnie and Klaus. He was curious if Klaus had any intentions of introducing Bonnie's stomach to a flat surface in the near future while lining up behind her. Stefan doubted it as Bonnie was even more of wet mop than his "good boy" persona, and Klaus fancied himself carrying a torch for a certain blonde who—come to think of it—hadn't made an appearance.

Tossing the bottle, Stefan made tracks inside of the house. He was ready to feed now, and the alcohol a few of the ladies had been drinking should have kicked in by this point. Not that he needed inhibitions to be lowered to get the sustenance his physiology craved, but it didn't hurt.

Standing in a corner, donned in a simple black gown that swept the floor, Stefan found his next meal. Blue veins visible under her translucently pale skin, wheat colored hair, smiling cerulean eyes. Something about her was oddly familiar and as the ripper continued to look it dawned on him _why _his taste buds were firing in remembrance. Not many survived after coming across his fangs, but this one had, years ago. It was Amber, the missing contestant from the Miss Mystic Falls pageant three years later.

Stefan watched as Amber laughed at some joke the woman in front of her made. His eyes darkened when she said she had to step away for a minute. He trailed behind her through the crowd, staying far enough away to avoid suspicion. How would he play with her tonight? Stefan hadn't decided.

Amber turned a corner and five seconds later, Stefan turned as well. Just as he was closing the distance, his arm was yanked and he was hauled in a completely different direction.

* * *

No party was complete without her presence. Dressed in flowy blood-orange chiffon, Caroline found ivory and ebony seated at a table having a tête-à-tête about prior transgressions or whatever. She didn't stick around to listen. Caroline left them to it in search of some other game that wouldn't put her to sleep. She knew Klaus was here somewhere and though a part of her wanted to cross paths, for the moment that was one skeleton in her closet that could remain there. Luckily for her she came across Stefan. He sure did know how to wear Brioni.

Without a word, Caroline marched up to Stefan, grabbed, and tried to haul him into the nearest room she could find. He swung around, vampiric mask in place, but laughed seeing it was her.

Stefan tore himself free, adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "What are you doing?"

Caroline snorted. "Has it really been that long you need it spelled out?"

No," Stefan swiped imaginary wrinkles off the front of his tuxedo jacket. "I might not have the best standards right now, but I'll always dictate when I become a piece of meat, and right now it's not yours that I want."

"Who cares?"

"You do," Stefan soon became distracted as Amber stepped out of the bathroom.

He didn't excuse himself as he went after her leaving Caroline in the dust. Well, if he wasn't going to help her liven things up, like with most things, she'd have to do it herself.

* * *

"You know, witchy something occurred to me."

Damon snuck up on her in the midst of stuffing her mouth. Covering her orifice with a hand, Bonnie stared at him questionably. "What occurred to you?" she talked around partially chewed crab. "This party sucks?"

"That as well," Damon plucked Bonnie's fork out of her hand and helped himself to a portion of her food. His lips wrapped around buttery crab. He nodded and hummed in approval and right when he was about to dig in for another bite, the fork disappeared from his hand. "Umm, I was eating."

"Right, exactly. Get your own plate and stop siphoning off mine. I've had enough of that," Bonnie mumbled under her breath.

Chagrined, Damon swallowed and got things back on track. "I realized that you and I haven't cut a rug since the sixties dance."

Bonnie thought about it and came to the conclusion she saw no lies. She sliced through her slab of sweet potato pie. "In all fairness, I didn't like you enough to want to dance with you any time following that particular dance."

"And I'm sure somewhere in there the feeling was mutual. But we like each other now."

Bonnie raised a brow.

Damon absorbed her look of skepticism. "You can deny it all you want, but the thought of losing me…terrifies you," he dramatically widened his eyes.

"Is this your long-winded way of asking me to dance?"

"Why Bonnie I'd love to," Damon grabbed the plate and fork out of her hand, dumping them on a table.

For the second time Bonnie was being dragged to the dance floor. After talking with Elena who had since made herself scarce, Bonnie had been toted around by Klaus who introduced her to literally everyone here. The names and faces ran together that Bonnie stopped paying attention. One of the people she had hoped to avoid, Lily Salvatore, Bonnie saw in passing. Yet she knew it'd be a matter of time before the Salvatore matriarch cornered her.

Now she was about to dance with the woman's son.

Bonnie looked up at Damon—waiting.

His polished shoes shuffled closer. One hand wound around Bonnie's waist, fingers brushing the areas of exposed skin that he felt pickle in response. The other clasped her proffered hand, which he gazed at. Damon stared down into feline, chartreuse eyes and pulled Bonnie closer, so close she felt every inch between his abs and thighs. Slowly they began moving from side to side.

Damon led her across the floor, taking command of her body that made her feel ultra- feminine and tiny. He even lifted Bonnie a time or two, his arms locked underneath her bottom, her hands poised on his shoulders as he held her suspended. He tossed her and being an experienced flyer when she was cheerleader, Bonnie twisted her body and landed bridal style in Damon's arms. She giggled as she was placed back on her feet.

That's how Elena found them. Seeing Bonnie and Damon together made something in her lower gut, knot. The feeling wasn't alleviated by the goofy half-smirk on her boyfriend's face.

"My, don't they look cozy together."

Elena cringed at the sound of Caroline's voice. She didn't comment or waste time asking what she was doing here. This would be the second time Elena was seeing Bonnie and Damon exhibiting more than platonic chemistry. She didn't want to be that girl who automatically jumped to conclusions and throw out bogus accusations, but what she had learned or rather relearned about Damon was…he didn't have friendships with women. He had a weird albeit special bond with Sheriff Forbes, but other than her, Damon really only interacted with Elena and...Bonnie. And he certainly never looked at Liz the way he was doing to Bonnie.

"Don't look so constipated, Elena. They aren't fucking."

"Shut the hell up," the doppelganger snapped.

Caroline shrugged insouciantly. "I'll leave you with this…one of them sure as hell wants to. Can you guess which one?"

**A/N: Thank you for reading. Please leave me some feedback to survive off on until the muse strikes again. **


	8. Chapter 8

No matter where you were someone was always watching. Some valued safety in numbers while others believed there could be no safety found in a large crowd. Being supernatural there were things one always had to be aware of even when one seemingly wasn't paying attention.

Eyes had been affixed on her all night, watching her every move. But she never once noticed or seemed to detect that she had drawn someone's interest.

"What kind of bird is that?"

A woman inclined her head to stare up at the tree they were seated under. Black feathers, massive and deadly looking talons gripped the rough branch the bird was perched on. The bird didn't look all that unusual to her, but once she took in its strange yellow-orange eyes as it stared intently at her…the hairs on the nape of her neck began to rise.

"I-I don't know. Let's go find our friends," she tugged her date along.

The bird shrugged and returned its focus to its object of study.

Across the vast lawn the revelers were still gorging themselves on the never ending champagne and taste bud bursting eats.

A certain doppelganger felt her slower-than-human heart beat, beat double at the tail end of Caroline's unsolicited observation.

Slowly, like a deranged elf, the blonde smiled at the brunette.

Elena waited until Caroline pranced off because had she made a move while the blonde tauntingly lingered, she would have felt exactly like a jilted and jealous girlfriend. The doppelganger wanted to believe she wasn't experiencing those emotions, but she needed to end the practice of lying to herself.

Looking at Damon and Bonnie dance, deepening their bond, bothered her. And Elena felt she was well within her right to be bothered. Somewhere in the far recesses of her mind she felt she had placed Stefan in this exact position. Enforced sidelining while she grew feelings for his brother. It didn't feel great wearing the other shoe. Elena could reason Damon was being overly attentive to her friend because she showed up as Klaus' date, and his mother was hell-bent on lobbying Bonnie's help to get her family. However, she couldn't ignore what was right in front of her, or what she saw a few days ago at Whitmore. The two of them walking across campus with Damon's arm slung over Bonnie's shoulder; the brief moment their fingers were intertwined. And she definitely couldn't stop hearing Caroline's crude assessment about one of them wanting to fuck the other.

Before she could bring her horses to heel, Elena straightened her shoulders and made her way through the crowd arriving right next to Bonnie, eyes on her boyfriend who seemed a bit surprised to see her as if he had forgotten they showed up here _together_.

Elena added a smile to her voice that she didn't feel, tapped Bonnie's shoulder. "Mind if I cut in? He's been hogged long enough."

Bonnie glanced at Elena taking in her slightly flared nostrils and the burgeoning mania brightening the hue of her brown eyes. She diverted to Damon and slid away while he appeared distracted.

Elena happily slid in Bonnie's place draping her arms around Damon's neck, threading her fingers through his hair. The cogs in Damon's mind were slow to process the fact that Bonnie bowed out and his girlfriend was acting uncharacteristically territorial. Damon, prior to being trapped in 1994 would have eaten this up with a spoon and asked for seconds, but Damon post 1994 found what Elena said a bit rude.

Inertia made him move, leading his girlfriend into a simple two step that was far from elaborate. All the while, Damon tracked Bonnie as she headed for the tables peppered throughout the lawn.

A moment later, his brow furrowed when Stefan popped up out of nowhere and extended a hand to Bonnie. Elena was sighing contently, which Damon disregarded in lieu of eavesdropping on the exchange happening between his brother and the witch.

"You've danced with Klaus, my brother…I feel it's my turn, Bonnie."

"Why would I want to dance with _you_, Stefan?"

"You want me to list reasons?" he slithered closer, smiled slyly. "Well, let's see. I'm much better at dancing than my cum stain of a brother, and I'm almost positive I'm sexier than that two-faced hybrid. Plus you and I…we've never danced vertically _or_ horizontally before. Why not give it a shot?"

Bonnie wove her arms across her chest. Stefan had no shame in checking out her cleavage. "I think I've had all the dancing I can stand tonight. Sorry."

She attempted to flee but Stefan caught Bonnie around the wrist, not enough to hurt but enough for her to feel and immediately tense. Being touched without invitation was one of her triggers, and the flames of a nearby tripod began to rage startling quite a few people. Damon stopped moving altogether prepared to intervene and knock Stefan's teeth out if he did anything to Bonnie.

"What's going on? Why'd you stop?" Elena questioned. The music was still playing and couples were still dancing.

Her query went unanswered. Damon was about to drop his hold on his girlfriend but Stefan spun Bonnie around, her back pressed along his front, hand dropping to her waist, chin on her shoulder.

"Remember when I held you like this?" Stefan whispered and at that moment deliberately made eye contact with Damon whose face was extremely pinched. "When you fell beneath the church and I saved you. I turned you around like this, wrapped my arms around you just so," he demonstrated, hugging Bonnie's middle, "and I told you to close your eyes?"

For a second Damon was willing to haul off and call Stefan a liar because he hadn't heard this particular story before. When the hell did this happen? he pondered. He glared at Bonnie who was staring at something only she could see.

"Yes, I remember that, Stefan but what is your point?" she maneuvered out of his arms, uncomfortable with having him behind her.

"I was so saintly back then," he snorted derisively, picking up Bonnie's left hand and placed it on his shoulder. "When I first gave you blood…no one stopped to question why I had to place my ear right on your chest to detect a heartbeat when my hearing is far better than a dolphin's," his grin inspired shivers to run across Bonnie's flesh. "I may have had a soft spot for you."

Unbeknownst to Bonnie, she and Stefan were swaying to the music. "Are you trying to tell me I'm your emotional trigger?" she laughed humorlessly.

Stefan frowned. "No, you're missing the point. The point I'm trying to make is that I wanted to fu—"

"All right, I think that's enough chit-chatting between you two," Damon flashed over, eyes crazed.

Bonnie jumped at his sudden appearance whereas Stefan was mildly annoyed and amused.

Unwilling to be left out of the drama, Elena barreled her way through the crowd and hissed to her boyfriend, "What are you doing?"

"Yes, Damon what _are_ you doing?" Stefan mocked.

Bonnie muttered, "I could so be eating pie right now."

Damon spoke over everyone, "All I'm trying to do is save your ass from being lit up tonight," he speared his brother with a scowl.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She did have some self-control. But then she thought, nostalgically, it had been a while since she flame broiled a vampire. Her fingertips began tingling.

Stefan was arguing, "Somehow I don't believe that's why you came over here intruding on something that's really none of your business."

"It is my business when I see your defective ass trying to make a move on Bonnie," Damon fired back.

"What?" that was Elena.

"Excuse me?" that was Bonnie.

Stefan grinned while Damon began to backpedal once it computed what he said and how it could be misinterpreted.

The dark-haired vampire shuffled in his designer loafers taking care not to look at anything or more to the matter anyone too intently. He felt lasers beaming from his girlfriend and could count the dimples in Bonnie's forehead.

Damon tugged on his sleeve, "I'm looking out for Bonnie as a friend." Lowly for Stefan to hear which unfortunately Elena heard as well, Damon gritted, "Go find another pair of legs to crawl between."

"—as much as I appreciate you trying to look out for me, Damon what I don't need is this pissing contest," Bonnie was saying amid the brothers stare down.

It didn't escape Damon that his little brother's wandering gaze landed on Elena when he advised him to look for pussy elsewhere.

"You might want to take care of that problem, brother. Your erection for a certain witch is showing." Stefan enunciated in perfect Italian. The girls were taken aback since it was their first time hearing him speak his ancestral language. He smiled charmingly at them both.

Damon graced Stefan with a dark look.

"Damon, can I talk to you or a second?" Elena petitioned.

"Yeah—"

Klaus showed up becoming another tentacle on this malformed octopus. He chugged from a flute of champagne having regrettably overheard the Salvatore brothers squabble. The doppelganger was fuming, irritable that the attention wasn't focused on her for once, if Klaus had to guess while Bonnie looked ready to bolt. He had been somewhat neglectful of her for the last hour of so. It was time he corrected that.

"Hate to interrupt your nth discussion about absolutely nothing. I'm sure my date would like to take her leave," Klaus extended an arm waiting for Bonnie's compliance.

Instead of taking the out she was being given, Bonnie gathered the hem of her dress and took off in the opposite direction.

No one had been in danger of dying, but the night was slowly becoming a waste of her time. Bonnie figured she'd done her duty and was now free to go.

Caroline, who stood some distance away heard what her one night stand said and surveyed as Klaus trailed after Bonnie. The hybrid caught up with the Bennett witch flashing in front of her. From the downturned corners of his mouth he didn't like being snubbed. It was a feeling they both shared.

She was pissed Stefan rather feed off the tart who he failed to drain during the Miss Mystic Falls pageant way back when. She'd never seen a vampire fail at being a vampire like Stefan…wait there was Elena. Never mind. In addition, Klaus hadn't picked up on her presence. So much for being her last love if he couldn't even detect her pheromones or however it worked. Fuck him.

Perhaps if she compelled a few losers and ordered them to cause a little mayhem that might do the trick. Attention was attention whether positive or negative. The goal was to be the center of someone's priorities. Now it was a matter of selecting someone. There were a lot to choose from. Ms. Scott the guidance counselor? Mr. Freeman the post office supervisor?

"You can do better than that," Caroline whispered to herself.

"Caroline."

She went still. A corner of her eye narrowed. The blonde vampire forewent turning to the summons electing to remain facing forward. "What do you want…Tyler?"

Tyler Lockwood sidled up to his ex in a black suit and tie. He offered her his hand. "Dance with me."

Snorting a laugh, Caroline tossed her curls on her opposite shoulder. "You think a twirl around the dance floor will trigger some emotion and my humanity will come flooding back in?"

Tyler hunched a shoulder. "I didn't say anything about any of that. I just want to dance with my friend. That dress is gorgeous…shouldn't go to waste."

Well, Caroline could say she agreed. Tyler did have a way of appealing to the superficial and well put together side of her. As she drew a measured eye over Tyler he sure as hell was wearing the fuck out of his suit. "Fine. Whatever," she slapped her hand in his, refusing to give credence to the small spark that zipped up her arm at the contact of their skin.

* * *

Bonnie wondered why her male counterparts were exhibiting such enthusiasm to be in her face all night. They had certainly never gone out of their way at dances and parties in the past to be paraded on her arm like a purse. Part of her wanted to laugh because she was so done, yet the other half of her was ready to crush a few toes if it meant she could have some breathing room. She glowered at Klaus curious as to when he'd stop blowing hot air out of his mouth because she stopped listening to him the second he blocked her way to freedom.

"Suck it, Klaus," Bonnie interrupted. "The night is done for me." She skirted around the Original, and checked to make sure he wasn't shadowing her once she got some distance away. Bonnie was sort of…relieved that he was engrossed with a particular dancing couple. Bonnie sort of a did a double take. Caroline and Tyler? Wow, she didn't even know they were here.

She heard a pair of heels fall in step behind her. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder she saw who it was. Lily Salvatore.

Bonnie released a long suffering sigh. She stopped and regarded the woman knowing it was inevitable, trading pleasantries and subtle threats. "Hello, Mrs. Salvatore."

"Bonnie, please call me Lily. You look…very becoming. I can see why my son is…well never mind. I was hoping to get a chance to converse with you. However, getting a moment of your time seemed to be next to impossible."

"What did you want to talk about?"

Lily stood only a foot away from the witch. "Perhaps now isn't the occasion. I'd like to extend you an invitation to dine with me at the Mystic Grill. Tomorrow at noon, will that work?"

"Unfortunately tomorrow isn't good for me. In fact this whole week I'm busy."

Lily frowned. "That's…disappointing to hear. However, I think you can squeeze me in for a drink at the least."

And that didn't sound like a request Bonnie noted. "I'll see what I can do, _Mrs. Salvatore_."

Lily cinched her teeth on top of one another, but smiled. "Let me give you my number," she plowed into her clutch and extracted a piece of paper with her number already scribbled on it. She handed it over to Bonnie. "Enjoy the ball. I'm going to retire now."

Bonnie said nothing, merely stepped aside as Lily journeyed to the house. She balled the paper in her hand—made sure no one was watching and, incinerated it.

However someone did see.

* * *

It was the sliver of time where night was close to conceding to dawn. She was tired but unable to rest because of the noise. Bonnie left the confines of the house unsurprised the party was still in full swing. She hung back surveying the scene. Some of the attendees were barely able to remain upright, a few sat at tables conversing. She could count the number of couples who loitered on the dance floor not even pretending to dance in time with the music anymore. Clearly they were battling exhaustion.

Bonnie maneuvered out of the way as a woman fumbled to reach the house, hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She didn't make it to a bathroom.

"Eww, gross," Bonnie moved away from the splatter and headed across the lawn. She stopped one of the serves and told him to check up on the woman, and offer her a glass of water.

A brawl broke out. The last thing anyone needed at what was supposed to be a civilized event.

"Idiots," she chided. Yep it was time for these people to go home.

Bonnie had just reached the edge of the dance floor.

"WATCH OUT!"

But it was too late. One man pushed the other and he went hurtling backwards knocking over a tripod. The burning coals flew through the air which wouldn't have been that big of a problem had Bonnie not been in the literal line of fire.

A smoldering coal hit her dress at the thigh, igniting the fabric. People screamed, stared in horror as a tiny flame grew into a wave of fire that used her gown as kindling.

Everyone froze.

Bonnie stared down at herself, then up. Heat waves skewered her vision of the gawking crowd, but she could see someone flying into action. A man grabbed a pail with watered down ice and began rushing toward her, spilling most of the contents on the ground while a woman screamed for her to stop, drop, and roll.

It was a vampire, however, with glacial eyes who shrugged off his coat ready to use it to fight off the flames. He arrived at her side first.

Yet Bonnie took a step, flames engulfing her feet, her clothing nothing more than a memory. As she looked at them…she realized they kind of tickled, like a feather being dragged along her flesh though she was sure it didn't look as harmless as it felt. She didn't look away from Damon—flames reflected in her irises as she kept walking. Step by step, droplets of fire like rain fell away. Soon enough the red-orange flames receded as if being sucked into a vacuum, ebbed until they were billows of light gray smoke and then nothing at all.

There was a resounding gasp. For a second Damon was one of those staring in horrified awe before mentally shaking his head. Without question, Damon vampire sped Bonnie to a secluded area of the estate.

"Are you hurt?" Damon gripped Bonnie's arms and twisted them frantically searching for any singed skin.

He found nothing.

"I channel fire, Damon. It can't hurt me."

A corner of his mouth kicked up at the corner. He grazed her arm and felt how warm she was. Seeing her on fire made his balls find their new home in his throat, but he should have known better. As he examined her he had to hold back a groan.

Damon threw his jacket over Bonnie's shoulders. She gave him a curious look. "You may be fine but your dress isn't. Your ass is hanging out."

Bonnie frowned then fought off a smile. "So _that's_ where that draft is coming from."

Elena was by their side, eyes wide with disturbed excitement. "Ohmygod, Bonnie are you okay?" she asked in that breathy voice of hers.

Nodding stiffy Bonnie traded a look with Damon. "I need to go change."

"I'll come with you," Elena volunteered.

"No, it's okay. I think I remember how to dress myself. Work on damage control," Bonnie jerked her chin at those who were clustered together in groups, whispering fiercely to one another if they thought what they had seen had actually happened. "About a hundred people just witnessed me catching on fire. Definitely don't need that popping up on the news."

Damon became aware of that mentally complaining about the number of people he'd have to compel. But she was right. By the time he gave Bonnie his undivided attention again she was scurrying off to the house.

* * *

"The party is over when the guest of honor becomes a literal girl on fire."

Bonnie said nothing as Klaus joined her in the spare bedroom. His tie was gone as well as his tuxedo jacket, and those damnable lips of his were still bright, cherry red.

She zipped up her jeans. "And where were you while your date was on fire?" the young witch glared and it wasn't a playful one.

If he was chagrined it was difficult to tell. His eyes were flat. "Dealing with an unforeseeable revelation. Why are you packing? I thought it was agreed you'd stay here."

"Come on, you and I both know that I was never going to lie under the same roof as you. Being your date was part of the terms and I've fulfilled that. Being your roomie wasn't in the fine print, and trust I checked to make sure."

Klaus' dimples winked at her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Bonnie could tell there was something he wanted to say.

"What?" she threw out.

"I figured it would be a hard sell to convince you to remain here so…I may have made other arrangements."

"What other arrangements?"

Klaus withdrew a key from his pocket, "My sister Rebekah has a nice little cottage on the outskirts of town. It's yours for the duration of our partnership."

Bonnie was sure her mouth was hanging open in a very unattractive manner. She recovered swiftly enough. "I-I can't stay in her home. What if she decides to pop in for a visit?"

The expression on Klaus' face changed, but only a fraction and since Bonnie didn't know him well enough she had no idea what it could possibly mean.

"You don't have to worry about my sister showing up unannounced at her own home. It's yours," he placed the key on the bureau along with a folded note. "Directions on how to get there." Klaus flashed his dimples once more. "Thank you for the…interesting evening."

In an instant he was gone.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Elena wrapped her shawl around her shoulders once leaving the foyer and joining Damon outside.

"You can head on to the house. I'm going to hang around here for a while. Make sure Bonnie gets home without anything catastrophic happening."

As much as Elena would like to give points to her boyfriend for being such an awesome friend to Bonnie, she couldn't get rid of the sting of jealousy she felt and anger toward herself for being ridiculous. Everyone had the capacity to care about more than one or two people at a time, but Damon's friendship with Bonnie seemed like it was more than that.

Her words, "She means something different to you," bit Elena on the ass.

Damon sensed she was pouting even if she weren't outwardly showing it. He pulled Elena into his chest and kissed her soundly on the mouth. She was dazed and smiley when they broke apart and Damon was thankful their limo pulled around at that time. He nudged his girlfriend toward it.

She hesitated not wanting to get inside right away. "Tonight was crazy and I'm sure Bonnie is glad it's over…but if she was able to survive being accidentally sat on fire…I think she'll make it home okay."

"You want to say that to her face?" Damon challenged.

The doppelganger swallowed, stared at her feet. "Da—"

"I know tonight didn't pan out how you were expecting but I hope you understand the circumstances."

"I do."

"Good. Nothing's changed," the dark-haired vampire arched a brow hoping Elena got the message. Her smile said she was appeased for now, but he knew this topic was going to be brought up and butchered to death later.

Elena climbed into the limo and arranged her skirts.

Damon shut the door and turned on his heel the minute the limo drove away. He found Bonnie attired in her usual threads still with a full face of makeup. She was cramming things into a suitcase while another bag was packed and zippered on the bed.

"Need a ride?"

Bonnie jerked around to face Damon. "I have a ride."

"Need a chaperone, then?"

She smirked, "I guess you'll do."

Damon grabbed the bag off the bed to expedite the process. "What the hell do you have in here? Klaus' silverware?"

Bonnie chuckled darkly, "Something a bit more valuable than that. Grimoires to teach me the many ways to kill those who oppose me."

Lips turned down at the corner, Damon shrugged, "Wonderful. After you, milady."

The duo stored Bonnie's luggage into the trunk of her Prius. She peeled off into the night mentally following the directions Klaus had given her.

"Where exactly are we going because this isn't the way to the B&amp;B?" Damon stated from the passenger seat five minutes into their drive.

"How observant you are, Mr. Salvatore. We're not going there but to a temporary spot. So…what was up with you tonight?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I was trying not to dance with your brother but he seemed determined to make it happen. Why'd you rush over like that? I hope you know you're planting all sorts of ideas into your girlfriend's head."

"Ideas about what? Was it wrong that I stopped my brother from polluting your virgin ears?"

Bonnie laughed. "These ears are far from being virgin especially after living with you." Damon chortled. "Besides there's nothing about me that is a virgin."

Damon made an indecipherable noise in the back of his throat. "You were with Jeremy that automatically makes you one."

A tiny fist swung out and smacked him in the chest. Damon was positive he heard a bone crack. The pain was immediate and he actually doubled over. "Ouch," he wheezed.

"Say one more piece of nonsense. You'll be limping home."

"All right, chill Grace Jones."

"Shut up. Now answer my question. Why did you literally leave Elena in the dust to stick your nose where it didn't belong in _that _moment?"

"I thought you just told me to shut up."

"Damon."

He slouched deeper in the cushiony seat. "I don't know. Blame it on impulse because I know how Stefan is when his humanity is nowhere to be found. A lot of people have said a lot of shit to you and…I guess…I wanted to spare you from hearing anymore."

Bonnie took her eyes off the winding road to slight Damon with a look. "I suppose that's a…nice thing to do for a friend."

"It is," Damon sniffed. "Now back to these ideas you think I'm putting in Elena's head." He knew he shouldn't enjoy the thought of Jealous Elena and being caught in the middle and unintentionally fought over, but Damon couldn't resist feeling like the last slice of cake in a room full of sweet tooth junkies.

Bonnie rolled a shoulder and flicked on her left turn signal taking the road that would lead to her new home.

"Think about it, Damon. You showed up with your girlfriend but you spent a majority of the night with me. It looks…sketchy."

"We're friends so what's there to be sketchy about? Besides, I think you catching on fire should excuse my lack of being the perfect doting boyfriend."

"And going home with me? How can you explain that?"

"Klaus is in town, I don't trust him and I have no idea where the hell you're going and I need to know. My mother is an issue as well, gunning for you because she has it in her head that you'll help her get her 'family' back." The bitterness and rage in Damon's voice was unmistakable. "You have a bad habit of dying and not letting people know, Bonnie. Sorry if I just want to make sure you don't do it again. If Elena can't understand that then…"

"Then what?"

Damon stared at her profile. "Then I guess she's not as compassionate as we've all been saying she is."

Bonnie couldn't argue with that but she was still…well it was weird and different to hear and see someone show so much concern for her. Being on the receiving end of that was…peculiar.

"About your mother," Bonnie readjusted in the seat, sitting taller. "She cornered me tonight, invited me to have lunch with her, and gave me her number."

"I hope you said no and lost her number."

"I did turn her down and I did better than lose a slip of paper…" her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, "I burned it."

"Good girl." Pause. "I know you want to keep me in the dark…but do you have a failsafe in place in the event my mother gets in one of her sentimental moods and decides she wants to visit where she buried the ascendant?"

"I _do_ have something in mind. Something I learned earlier today."

Damon leaned over the console. "Don't be a tease, witchy. Tell me."

"I rather be a tease."

Damon poked out his bottom lip.

The two said nothing, didn't even make a sound as Bonnie rolled her car to a stop in front of the 'cottage' which was in fact a two story house nestled in a patch of trees. It was cute and rustic from the outside painted white with blue shutters and flower beds with budding rhododendrons. Seeing them made Bonnie think back to the masked figure at the ball who handed her a bouquet of those flowers. Klaus had divulged their meaning: Beware. Was what happened to her tonight connected to the person who handed her that parcel of flowers? Or could she chuck it up to coincidence? Or, and this made her throat tighten, had it been a test from Dahlia? Though her training was set for tomorrow night maybe the ancient witch wanted to see how she'd handle a spontaneous crisis.

She may never know.

Witch and vampire exited the car. As soon as they did, motion sensor floodlights popped on.

Damon had graciously retrieved her bags while Bonnie opened the front door.

The lights automatically turned on. Bonnie crept inside taking everything in. The furniture was very New England if she had to describe it, oversized everything in neutral colors, no florals. Pine floors in the living room, cream carpet in the dining area offset of the kitchen which had tile. The stone fireplace in the living room was exactly that, a stone fireplace made of individual rocks placed with precision and care. Adjacent to it were a set of built-in shelves full of books.

Damon whistled as he leaned into the doorjamb. "Nice."

"It is."

"Gonna invite me in?"

Bonnie cocked her head to the side. "You mean you can't get in? The owner is a vampire."

"I'm merely trying to be polite."

"Come in, Damon."

He bounded inside dragging her luggage behind him, smirking. "I actually _couldn't_ get in. And what vampire owns this place?"

"Rebekah."

"Great," Damon muttered insincerely.

Bonnie closed the door and dropped the key on the coffee table. She rubbed her arms. It was freezing inside and she went on a search for the thermostat, finding it on the wall that separated the kitchen and living room. She switched on the heat and bumped the temperature to seventy-five.

Damon shed his jacket draping it on the arm of the sofa. He flung himself on the couch that nearly swallowed him, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looked at Bonnie and patted the cushion beside him, wagging his brows.

She shook her head. "You've seen me home…I think it's time for you to go to yours."

"Boo. The least you can do is offer me a drink before dismissing me."

"I don't know if there's food here or anything to drink."

"Well, go look."

"How bout you look. You're the one who's thirsty."

Damon made a show of rising from the couch, grunting unnecessarily. "You need to work on your hospitality," he sniffed as he strode by Bonnie, actually brushed against her in the process.

Bonnie wandered around her new home, running her fingers along figurines, pillows, opening a few books, scanning their content.

"Bingo!" Damon emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of wine. "It's a Bordeaux. 1992…my favorite year," he waggled his brows again.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Just open it already."

Damon popped the cork, inhaled the scent of the merlot, his eyes momentarily found their way to the back of his head. The proper way to drink wine was to let it breathe, but he just didn't have the patience for it. Damon upturned the bottle but stopped, and stretched it out to Bonnie.

"This is your home for now…you should have the first swig."

"How thoughtful of you," Bonnie approached and took the bottle into her possession. She held it aloft, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Here's to…learning from mistakes and not repeating old ones while making new memories. Cheers," she downed at least two shots worth of wine, grimaced at its strength, and handed it off to Damon.

He leered, "Lightweight." Damon guzzled like it was water.

Being a messy drinker, a drop of rose colored wine landed on his white button down.

"You spilled wine on your shirt."

Damon shrugged. "It's just a shirt. Unless…this is your roundabout way of saying you want me to take my top off. Bonnie, I'm shocked!"

"You are stupid," she snatched the bottle from Damon and helped herself to more than a mere swallow the second time around.

Her bottom lip was moist with wine and Damon for the life of him couldn't stop staring at it. He went with his impulse to wipe it away using the pad of his thumb. Bonnie's eyebrows jumped but she relaxed into the action. Her breath rushed out tickling the tip of his thumb.

Damon shuffled closer unbeknownst to himself. He didn't know why, but he wanted to pull her hair free, watch it tumble down her to shoulders. He had always had a predilection for pretty girls with long hair. It wasn't until now that Damon could say he secretly hated Bonnie had chopped her hair off into a bob. And now that his brain was on this particular frequency, Damon wondered idly why Bonnie's hair never grew a single inch in the four months they had been trapped together, or during the ten months she had spent in the prison world altogether. Had she trimmed it? Because he still had to shave everyday, and clipped his own hair that had always been somewhat of a lost cause.

Bonnie craned her neck further. She had to in order to maintain eye contact. She pressed a hand on Damon's chest to discourage him from getting any closer. He was staring, boring holes actually which made her self-consciousness flare. This wasn't so dissimilar from earlier tonight while Damon talked her down from a proverbial ledge and she had asked him to tell her she looked nice. What was he thinking? Did she even want to know?

Bonnie diverted her gaze to Damon's chest, her hand on his chest. Now it was registering how muscled he was. She had always known that but touching him put things in clearer perspective. Another thought, more...unadulterated in nature flashed through her mind, which Bonnie sucked in a breath. She smoothed her hand up his chest and circled around his neck. Rising on her toes, Bonnie hugged Damon and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for being there for me tonight."

Drawing away, Bonnie covered up a yawn as she shuffled to drag her suitcase upstairs. Damon's head buzzed like he had a hangover, but he couldn't say if it was from taking the wine straight back, or from feeling a little witch's lips on his cheek.

"Are you going home, Damon?"

Her question startled him. "I should."

However he wasn't exactly ready to leave. He had a bottle of wine to finish after all. At least that's what he told himself.

He lumbered deeper into the living room until he could see Bonnie who stood poised on the staircase. "I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"That may take a while. It's hard for me to fall asleep in a foreign bed."

"I'm not in a rush."

Bonnie's head tilted as she seemingly examined him. Her eyes crinkled but a moment later she shook her head, tugged her suitcase after her. The whole while she thought, "you should be."

* * *

At the boardinghouse, Elena disrobed and donned her pajamas, which was one of Damon's T-shirts. She eyed her cell, gnawed the inside of her cheek. An hour had gone by with no sign of her boyfriend. It shouldn't take this long for Damon to make sure Bonnie made it home, she worried. What was taking so long?

"I know your head is a bowl of cabbage when it comes to certain memories…"

Elena whipped around. Stefan loomed in the threshold. "What are you doing here?"

"Last I checked this was my house. As I was saying," he pushed away from the doorjamb and entered his brother's room. "There's one memory of yours in particular that I'm curious if you remember."

Elena crossed her arms horribly conscious of the fact she was braless and her nipples were reacting to the chill of the room. "What might that be?"

Stefan stared unabashedly at her chest for a second. "The party in the woods…the night I saved you when you fell off the bleachers…the night we were almost barbequed alive. I came to your house real late that night and we…"

Elena flushed and slapped a hand over her ex's lips. Yes, she remembered with acute clarity and had to repress a shiver. Stefan had come to her room, stone face and Elena thought he was going to kill her, but he moved forward seizing her mouth frighteningly possessive, and the submissive part of her yielded, giving into his wantonness with a perverse amount of ardor.

Their clothes came off. Stefan had ridden her harder, fucked her like never before that night. Elena had loved it so much she didn't feel used when she woke up alone the next morning.

"What's your point?"

Stefan plucked her hand off his mouth then sucked her index finger into his mouth. Elena snatched her hand away wiping her digit clean of his saliva.

"You remember how wet I made you? I still have the scratches on my back from that night," he smirked evilly. "My point, Elena is we can relive that moment and he wouldn't have to know."

She scoffed, placed the room between herself and her ex. "That's never going to happen, Stefan. Get out."

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

Stefan leered. "All right. Well you know where to find me if you change your mind," he made tracks to the door yet paused. "Here's another question for you, Elena. Where's your boyfriend now?"

**A/N: Good question, Stefan? Will prior flames be resurrected? Hmm. Was Bonnie tested tonight by a certain 1000 year old witch, stay tuned to find out, and how did we like the Bamon? Thanks for reading and please, don't forget to review, leave behind a few words of encouragement, anything to keep this muse of mine going. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello, sorry for such a long wait for this, but writer's block was a rude lil B.**

* * *

The little splotches of blood seemed to multiply in the palms of her hands. Uncurling her fingers, she gasped sharply. She couldn't get control of her breathing or her elevated heart rate. Her hands shook as she fumbled with inserting the key in the lock, but her fingers kept slipping.

Finally, she was inside.

She was grateful for the darkness. It was easier to melt in the shadows and to move about undetected. Not a single light was turned on, which was just fine by her. Light would have made everything more real. A few moments later she locked herself in the bedroom then the bathroom.

She lit a single candle, turned on the bathtub faucet and stripped out of her soiled jeans, T-shirt, and toed off her shoes. Discarding her undergarments with it, she stepped into the tub. She had forgotten to turn on the cold water and what awaited her would have surely melted skin. But she didn't care. She held in her cries as the scolding hot water pricked her skin. Biting her bottom lip, she sank until she was fully submerged.

She shut off the water once it reached her shoulders. Her breath rippled the top as steam covered her in a halo. The mirror was foggy, a haze engulfed the room as she sat for a while—thinking. She brought her hands out of the water, water that was now a very pale pink. They were still stained with blood. Grabbing the sponge and a bottle of body wash, she began to scrub maddeningly.

Her movements were feverish as she cleaned herself again and again and again until miraculously the water had grown cold. She stepped out, grabbed a towel, dried herself, and went back into the bedroom.

She dressed in a short loose nightgown and climbed into bed. She hugged her knees to her chest, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. Unconsciously, she bit her nails as she blocked out the images that assaulted her, pricked her like needles. A groan tried to climb out of her throat but she forced it back down. A tear fell and then another and soon her cheeks were flooded as mucus covered her top lip.

Dahlia said her training would be cruel. Bonnie wished that had been a lie.

* * *

Hours Ago…

* * *

With the moon half hidden behind a patch of dark clouds, her mind wandered to previous adventures in the woods. Playing hide-and-go-seek when she was little, the parties. Little by little her childhood was pushed aside by bodies. Bodies and blood draining into the ground.

Bonnie's mordant thoughts clashed with anticipation. She could feel the subtle change in the air. It was becoming weightier, heavier, infused with magic. She hardly thought of Mystic Falls as a magical place in the sense of dreams coming true. It was a harbinger of death. Anyone to enter its city limits never left out _alive_. Yet Bonnie drew power from this place since it was the epicenter of her ancestors. Or so she had been led to believe. Dahlia said someone had been negligent in telling her who she was. Grams hadn't lived long to tell her, and her mother never cared. As usual she was left to figure out what came next on her own.

The woods curved and Bonnie begun to see the faint glow of light. Candlelight, perhaps torches. Inhaling, she smelled hickory, pine, and oak burning. She was getting close and her hands, which were already a bit clammy to start with, were now drenched. Bonnie walked faster despite wanting to run in the opposite direction. But it was too late to fold. She was there.

Dahlia stood with her back to her in front of a rock formation of some sort. Bonnie had no idea what it was. She looked closer. It wasn't a haphazard rock or boulder jutting from the ground, but carefully arranged large slabs of stone constructed into an…altar? Bonnie gulped and forced her feet to move. As she did, the torches flared higher. She stopped abruptly.

Dahlia turned, dressed in the same dark coat she wore the previous day. That same no-nonsense expression hadn't changed a bit, and Bonnie figured she wouldn't be welcomed with hugs and kisses. Besides, she didn't want to touch Dahlia if she could help it.

"Tonight will not be what you expect," was Dahlia's warm and fuzzy welcome. "Are you ready?"

Bonnie nodded jerkily; her heart in her throat. "I am."

"Are you? You seem nervous."

"I…am," Bonnie admitted ruefully.

"At least you're honest, but how honest are you really, Bonnie?"

"What do you mean?"

Dahlia began to approach. "There is the truth we tell ourselves and the truth we tell to others. How often do your truths align or clash with one another?"

Bonnie's questions was: What does honesty have to do with learning how to use spells to defend herself and kill? She wisely kept that to herself, but by the brightening of Dahlia's eerily yellowish eyes, perhaps she plucked that thought straight from her head.

"You don't trust me," Dahlia postulated without offense. "You're smart not to. Come here, witchling."

Bonnie crossed an invisible boundary and the minute she did, it was like a veil had been snatched from her eyes. She had entered the real world, the real world to a witch. The power of it knocked her off kilter. Bonnie could feel the exact age of the earth, the trees in the forest, could feel the death of a recently killed possum, and a bird settling into its nest to protect its young. It was nature at its most unfiltered and she was at the center of it.

Bonnie's hearing was magnified. Her hand lifted, faltered before closing over her left ear. She yawned to forcibly pop her ears but it was still _too _much. So much her balance was thrown. Bonnie wobbled.

"Don't fight it," Dahlia cautioned.

"What _is_ this?"

"What you're feeling is what your magic is derived from. The source."

"I thought…wow," a nervous giggle escaped, "I thought magic came from the spirits and the earth, too, but mostly the spirits."

"It does but where are the spirits _today_?" Bonnie had no answer. "There was nothing tethering them to this world once the other side collapsed, so they went back to the source."

Bonnie could hear the smoothing trickle of water but couldn't see the point of origin, and the reason for it was because it was traveling underground. Several herbs were burning and Bonnie noticed candles, which weren't there before she crossed that boundary. They were now displayed on the stone altar. Wax cooled and hardened into stalactites on the side of its surface.

"What is your weakness?" Dahlia asked.

"Lack of knowledge."

"Yes, but no. It's your _thinking_," the older witch pointed to her temple. "Your mind controls your body while your thoughts control you. You have to break those thoughts, Bonnie. One of the earliest lessons my mother taught me was…look at yourself like the universe. How everything was designed to carry out its own part. That's how you should look at your magic, carrying out its part. It is its own entity that happens to be a part of you. See yourself _as_ magic."

"How would I do that?"

"In steps. This is a process," Dahlia lowered to the ground. "Give me your hands, child."

Bonnie sat opposite of Dahlia on her knees and stretched out her arms. She flinched a little as the older woman wrapped her steel-like fingers around her wrists.

Dahlia closed her eyes. Bonnie did the same.

Every spell she's ever done, every aneurysm, every broken bone, every daylight ring created, siphoning the magic of a hundred witches, coffin and tomb opened, heart stopped and started (her own included), veil lowered, prison world escape, every configuration of water into fire, Dahlia now knew about it.

Languidly, Dahlia's hooded lids parted, "Which of these made you feel the most powerful?"

Bonnie opened her mouth to reply since the answer seemed obvious, but she thought some more. When she used Expression someone else had been playing with her controls most of the time. Healing herself during the prom fiasco had been badass and Elena's fear she might kill her—delicious—but it was out of character. Bringing down Klaus meant the possibility of dying with him. Stopping Jeremy's heart…that power turned into fear as it took longer than expected for his heart to restart. Bringing him back the second time, she died instantly leaving no time to test out her new gifts in other ways. No matter the type of power or magic she wielded it went hand-in-hand with her death. So in a sense it left her weak.

But there was one tiny moment in time where Bonnie had absolute control. "Making feathers float," she declared.

Dahlia gave an imperceptible nod of her head in approval. "And you want to know why out of everything you've done you've felt the most power doing that simple thing? Because you had the most control. Power is no good if you're punished for it."

Three people wandered from the shadows standing some distance away. They wore dark clothing; faces obscured by the moonless night, the flicker of candles did little to highlight any noteworthy features.

"Here you have a werewolf, a vampire, and a witch," Dahlia orated. "You know the ways to kill them all. You can desiccate a vampire, drive a stake through its heart, decapitate it. Werewolves are still human so any wound inflicted to the heart or head would be fatal, the same with witches. Watch," Dahlia raised a hand in the air and closed it into a fist.

The werewolf, vampire, and witch began screaming and gripping various body parts as they cried out in agony.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie asked nervously.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm hurting them, using their weaknesses against them."

Bonnie watched in mystified horror and something akin to perverse excitement because it was clear what Dahlia was doing to them. And they actually sighed up to be used like this? But hurting them at once, these three different supernatural beings, she hadn't seen anything like that before.

As if she were watering her plants, Dahlia casually inquired, "Have you never tried to siphon the magic out of any of these beings?"

"No." She knew what having her power siphoned felt like, but hadn't learned to return the favor.

The vampire dropped to his knees, pleading for mercy. The witch was arched awkwardly caught between falling to the ground but suspended in a state of paralysis, a gurgling noise croaked from the depth of her esophagus. The werewolf twitched as the sounds of his bones breaking popped in Bonnie's ears that made her wince in sympathy.

"I'm forcing the werewolf to turn. I'm occluding the major arteries in the vampire, and I'm amplifying the witch's power to destroy her from the inside out."

"Ohmygod," Bonnie whispered.

Dahlia unfurled her fist and waved her hand in circle. The torture stopped and now her test dummies seemed to be in a state of bliss. Their harried breaths rushed out, groans turned into pants and moans.

"Being able to wield and control magic are two different things. You can control the severity of the spell. Make it the most painful feeling on earth, or the most pleasure-filled."

Bonnie licked her lips, eagerly wanting details. "But how? How can I switch it between the two without saying the words?"

"You rely so heavily on language, but language is nothing more than unconverted action. They are key but not always needed. Enough with the tricks. It's time to get started."

Shifting her focus to Dahlia, Bonnie gasped. Eyes doubled in size. The woman, Klaus' auntie, was butt butterball naked. Her long hair shielded her breasts; the rest of her was open to the elements. Her pale flesh was thankfully and strategically tattooed with symbols. Upon closer inspection which Bonnie really didn't want to look any closer, she recognized some of those symbols having seen them etched on the walls of the caves under one of the Lockwood properties. They were Viking symbols.

The air hit her body differently and when Bonnie slowly, unhurriedly looked down at herself, her clothes were gone. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest feeling violated and mortified. "What the fuck? Why am I naked? Why are _you_ naked?"

"Rest assured there is nothing sexual about this. This is simply a ritual."

Bonnie's hands were gently pried away and she went blank. Dahlia was speaking but she wasn't listening. People started emerging from behind the altar. Six total. Three women and three men. They too were naked and covered in symbols.

"Who are they?"

"A few of my acolytes."

A woman walked straight toward them, her orbs overly large and the same color as Dahlia's. She carried a bowl in her hands fashioned from clay. She handed the bowl over to Dahlia, her head bowed.

Dahlia dipped her fingers in the contents of the bowl and began to paint a symbol on the center of Bonnie's chest. It burned and smelled of isopropyl alcohol and mint. The fumes made Bonnie cough and wiggle uncomfortably. "What is this?"

"For your protection. We're dealing with energies that can be…hostile at times. Unstable, yet potent. "

That did not boost Bonnie's confidence. Honestly what had she gotten herself into?

A clay cup was thrust toward the skittish witch. She lifted a brow but by the hard look on her mentor's face, questioning what it was, and declining to indulge was not an option. Bonnie accepted the cup and swallowed.

It almost came back up. The beverage—if she could even call it that—was bitter like radish juice diluted with honey. It was acrid stuff to intake and Bonnie slapped a hand over her mouth as her esophagus revolted. She grumbled when the liquid hit her belly and nausea flared for a minute but eventually the twisting of her gust settled. She dropped the cup and heaved a breath sure she was about to vomit. Luckily she managed not to.

The effects of whatever she drunk were immediate. Bonnie's head felt detached from the rest of her body. Her arms and legs weren't working in concert together. Her feet wanted to climb whereas her hands wanted to fly. Her skin wanted to dance right off her bones, her tongue swelled, her sight went into warp, and she was giddy, aroused, terrified, tired and hyperactive at once.

"What…what's happening?" her words slurred together like she was talking around a wad of gum.

Bonnie was tugged closer to the altar. Trepidation mounted and spread like weeds. Her eardrums began beating. No, that wasn't right. That was an actual drum she was hearing. And other instruments as well. Bonnie tried to turn her head to see, but with her body operating on its own volition she couldn't get it to work. Her bare feet slid across the cold dirt and she was brought to a stop.

Dahlia nudged her forward and Bonnie clumsily made her way on the altar lying down, hissing quietly once the cold slab came into contact with her skin. With her lying down the world around Bonnie shifted, became something else. Not something sinister though she could feel those vibes, but something indulgent and pearlescent.

The pulse of the air changed again. Bonnie glanced around as much as she could but shapes and forms blurred. She jumped when something wet was dashed on her. Bonnie went immobile. Something was crawling lengthwise on her legs. Her head lifted to see. They were fingers. A man in a mask.

"What is this?"

Dahlia was nowhere to be found, but Bonnie could hear her disembodied voice as she said:

"Explain to me how it was possible that you died. You had three different kinds of magic in you, Bonnie and you wasted them for what purpose? To defeat Silas?"

Arms came into view and Bonnie was flipped on her stomach.

"To bring back your ex-lover?"

The hands were digging into her hamstrings. She didn't know if this were supposed to be a massage or if she were supposed to be fighting. None of this was making a lick of sense to her, other than the sensations themselves. And all the while Dahlia was still talking.

"—to help the doppelgänger who couldn't be bothered to care that night if you lived or died."

Dahlia's taunts were running together, yet they hit their intended target. Bonnie's heart.

Warmth, her insides clenched at the thought of where those hands may go next. Electricity, lots and _lots_ of electricity. It was mingling with her DNA. Bonnie could feel that, and though it wasn't unpleasant at first, she noticed it was becoming harder for her to breathe, to think. Like falling into a vat of oil, Bonnie figured out too late she was being consumed.

She panicked.

"You died in a cave for _nothing_, Bonnie. You let misplaced loyalty, lack of knowledge, and your own fear be your downfall. Now I must strip you of it."

"No," Bonnie flipped their positons with the unknown man on the bottom, her on top.

There was a ceremonial blade, curved, the handle made out of ivory. She reached for it, the cold steel burned her hand but she clasped on to it tightly. She reached down to unmask the person, her chest rising and falling, her breath escaping as vapor. Bonnie counted in her head and when she got to three she ripped the mask off.

It was Stefan…wait no _Silas _beneath her. Hatred and fury rushed through her so fast her head spun. Bonnie dug the blade into his neck. Then a funny thing started to happen. The face changed and she was looking at Klaus. And before his features could become substantial they were juxtaposed with Kai's face and then Jonas Martin's. Esther, Klaus, Elijah, Jeremy, Stefan, Katherine, Qetsiyah, Markos, Atticus Shane, Elena, and Damon people who have hurt her in one way or another, they were there with her on that altar. One after another they kept changing but the one sticking out the most was Kai.

Bonnie lifted the knife and stabbed down plunging the blade into the man's shoulder. Kai laughed.

"You're going to have to do better than that, sweetheart," he goaded.

She snapped. Bonnie started slashing. The knife ripped his trachea open and the surprise on Kai's face made her laugh and she laughed like she was a Disney cartoon villain. Blood oozed and drenched the altar, dripped over the edges, wet her knees. An infusion of something lit Bonnie up like a skyscraper and for two seconds she was paralyzed, back arched awkwardly, eyes pointed up to the sky. The minute it was over she had to catch herself on all fours or she would have toppled to the ground. She quivered and shook, giggled and whimpered.

The body beneath her wasn't moving and when Bonnie chanced a look at the face it wasn't Kai dead and gone looking sightlessly up at her, but Jeremy.

"Jer…?" her brow dimpled in confusion.

The face changed again and kept changing while the body was reanimating, becoming alive once more. Bonnie brought down the knife again. Markos, Silas, Klaus, Atticus, Katherine made no difference who it was they suffered the same fate as Kai. A slit throat. When the face morphed into Damon's…she hesitated.

"You can't afford to have any weakness or Achilles heel, Bonnie. Take him out."

Damon may have taken her for granted but he was there when she needed backup, he knew her the best as she was now, and had been the only one with any foresight to bring her back the first time she died. His reasons in the past may have been to make Elena happy, but Bonnie had a front row seat to his reaction when Jeremy told him the truth. He wouldn't have reacted that strongly unless he really did care.

"Do it, Bonnie."

"No."

"Then he'll be the reason you die again."

"I can't, I can't, I can't," Bonnie repeated softly.

"Why can't you?"

"Because…I…"

Love him.

* * *

Now

* * *

He had been here just last night and narrowly escaped the doghouse. Damon would say he was morbidly curious about how Bonnie's first training session with Dahlia went, but really he was worried. He didn't have a good feeling about it, and anytime the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, Damon heeded that warning.

Most of the time.

Bounding out of the car, Damon knocked on the front door of Bonnie's temporary home. He waited all of twenty seconds before barging right in.

"Bonnie?"

She wasn't in any of the rooms downstairs so he went up to the bedroom. He snorted seeing a burrito shaped mass in the middle of the bed. Bonnie was clunked out, mouth slightly parted.

Damon waited for her to start mumbling unintelligibly but was disappointed. The tired witch made not a single sound. "She must have put you through the ringer," he wagged his head, gripped the knob intending to close the door but he caught the scent of stale blood.

He tracked the scent to the bathroom where Bonnie's dirty clothes were strewn over the floor. Damon picked up her jeans, sniffed, frowned. It wasn't her blood but someone else's. Fingers plucked the shirt up next. The entire front of it was drenched.

What had Dahlia made her do? He left to go find her.

* * *

Blood red flowers were a dead giveaway.

Impervious to feeling cold, Damon's goose bumps pimpled his alabaster skin. The fine hairs on the back of his arms rose as if sensing some electrical interference. His teeth were on edge and he could have sworn his gums were bleeding. There was a force present in the area far more powerful than him and he knew he was on the right track.

Swatting thin tree branches aside his boots made not a sound on the pebbled pathway leading him to a solarium.

Built in 1909 by Emerson Randolph Lockwood it was a wedding gift to his daughter Cornelia who tragically died five days after saying 'I do'. The solarium was all glass designed like a Victorian bird cage. Damon was sure there was a metaphor in there somewhere. The wrought iron pane work had turned green with age. The windows for the most part were heavily covered in mildew, but this was where Damon found Dahlia. He knew to come here because this used to be a meeting spot for witches since the structure had inadvertently been constructed on the intersecting points of ley lines. If anyone cared to believe the hype. He hadn't until now.

Though it never occurred to Damon that he might have purposely been led there.

Damon pulled open the door having to exert force, and swept inside nothing the humidity although it was thirty-nine degrees outside. The entire north wall of the solarium was covered in blood red flowers that shared the name of the woman frowning at him disapprovingly. He gave her an unimpressed once-over.

"So you're the witch who's helping Bonnie," he spat succinctly.

Dahlia tiled her head like a marionette, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. "And I know what it is you want. For me to be gentle with her because she's been through more than most girls her age. Bonnie's enemies won't care how delicate she is, and once my tuition is done she won't ever be again."

"Then you shouldn't mind if I observe these little sessions between you and my friend."

"Yes I do mind."

"That's tough shit."

"Damon," Dahlia moistened her thin lips, "you believe your own hype just as badly as my nephew. Only, in Niklaus' case he doesn't need to hide behind a twenty year old girl and her magic to be formidable. Don't even think it."

Was the woman a mind reader and saw him about to wrap his hand around her throat, or was he just that damn predictable Damon smashed his molars on top of one another.

"Did you have her kill someone last night?"

A weighted silence, then, finally, "Yes."

Damon bit back several oaths. "_Who_?"

"Someone who was happy to die."

"Why would you do that to her? She's not a murderer."

"Though she's asking me to teach her how to kill." Dahlia interlaced her fingers. "You believe you care a great deal for Bonnie, and perhaps you do in your own Freudian way. However, love won't keep her alive. And how do you expect her to be at her best when you cloud her judgment?"

A divot formed between Damon's brows, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you and Bonnie are in love and neither of you has any idea."

If someone had thrown a bucket of iced water on Damon it wouldn't have affected him as much as the words that spilled from the ancient witch's mouth. The look of sheer confusion on his face made Dahlia guffaw.

Damon thawed out. "You don't know us, _chick_ and you sure as hell know nothing about our…my…feelings."

"I was at the party last night…inconspicuous though I was, but I was there just the same. Your actions were not of one friend looking out for the other. But of a man…protecting his mate."

Damon's chest expanded. Inwardly he was scrambling like a cat trying to escape a bathtub filled with water. "I…that's not…you're wrong! My feelings for Bonnie are strictly platonic."

"You can deny it," Dahlia insisted. "It doesn't change the facts but what you do next will change the course. If you care anything for Bonnie at all you will give her the tools she needs and then…you will get out of her way."

A corner of Damon's eye crinkled. One thing he couldn't stand was someone he didn't know telling him what to do. "As long as she needs me I'll be in the picture."

Damon zoomed out of the solarium. He slammed the door to his car too hard and accidentally cracked the glass. His elbow finished the job of busting out the window in its entirety. Glass landed on his thigh, the floor. It was scattered across the dashboard. Damon sunk into the seat and sulked.

Bonnie killed. Bonnie's in love with him? He's in love with Bonnie? Preposterous.

Yet…

His phone started ringing. Damon whipped it out, frowned at the caller, and answered despite not wanting to. "Hey, I'm on my way back. See you soon."

Gunning the engine, Damon drove away.

**A/N: Good news, chapter ten is already written. Just needs some fine tuning. What did we think of this? Bonnie's training with Dahlia is far from over, and what will Damon do with that unexpected revelation? Please leave me some feedback, y'all. Thanks for reading! XOXO**


	10. Chapter 10

If anyone were to look up at the sky it would seem the moon had been pierced with the tip of a red-hot sword and bled. The sight of it seemed warped like that of a deflated ball. The clouds were muddy red and black with patches of dark gray. A sign of pollution? A sign of something ominous to come? Dangerous energies congealing? Only a certain kind had the answer.

Bonnie had slept through the entire day, not once waking up to eat or use the bathroom. Typically, sleeping so much led to one feeling more tired and exhausted, drunk on the brain's delta waves. She was lost somewhere in the middle of drowsiness and wakefulness. It was dark in the room but not pitch-black, which told her the sun had just gone down. Bonnie didn't move right away. She acclimated to the silence as images from her dreams faded to nothingness. The sleepy witch couldn't firmly recall what happened to her the day before, yet the funny taste in the back of her mouth said she'd done something she probably wouldn't want to remember.

Groaning, Bonnie reached for her phone to contact civilization. She had only one missed phone call from Hayden. She sighed and debated on calling him back just to say hello, but decided against it. He would ask to see her, and being in this weird state of vulnerability she would cave; however, she was due to meet Dahlia within a few hours. Best not to torture herself with a brief tryst.

Getting up, Bonnie made the bed and then padded to the bathroom. She winced as she turned on the light. Her gaze, for whatever reason, dropped straight to the floor. She blinked, brow furrowed in confusion. What happened to her clothes? Bonnie was sure she had left them there after her bath.

Hmm, the tub was clean. In fact the entire bathroom was spotless.

Bonnie leaned against the wall, a faint smile touching her lips, "Damon."

It wasn't until she was in the shower that Bonnie remembered why Damon would have gotten rid of her clothes and cleaned the bathroom.

She started hyperventilating.

Oh no...

How could she…

Why would she…

MURDER!

Bonnie dropped to her knees, shaking and trembling, impossibly cold despite the warm water pelting her, unable to take a deep, full breath. No, she couldn't go back. She wouldn't.

* * *

"I know you're in there, little witch. I can hear you breathing."

Bonnie stood, back pressed along the wall upstairs, biting her fingernail. She wondered if Dahlia would come looking for her, or send someone to drag her kicking and screaming. Hiding and dodging her end of the bargain could be viewed as childish. Bonnie didn't really give a damn how she looked.

She had her own code she wanted to live by and nowhere did it state she would actively participate in the ritualistic murder of an anonymous person. But how anonymous was that individual if she could still feel the warmth of his blood on her hands and arms, felt the speckle of it dotting her chest and chin? Felt the substance of his body between her thighs, and the sickening squish of a knife thrusting in his heart?

Bonnie lurched forward and almost vomited, but quelled it by forcibly swallowing her saliva and breathing through her nose.

"Bonnie!"

She groaned at the sound of Klaus' voice. He wouldn't leave, Bonnie knew this until he saw her and bothered her, and what was he doing here anyways? She had a pretty good idea that he was not here on Dahlia's behest. Bonnie shuddered to think of how Dahlia dealt with those who broke their word to her.

Literally dragging her feet, Bonnie sauntered to the front door, opened it.

Klaus took in the sight of her haggard appearance, the bags beneath the young witch's eyes, her unkempt hair, mismatched clothes.

"Day one and you're falling apart already? I expected more from you."

As expected, his criticism lit a fire within the witch whose once dull green eyes became liquid emerald.

Bonnie made to slam the door in Klaus' smug face but he stopped it with his hand.

"Is that anyway to treat a guest?"

"You're not a guest because I didn't invite your ass to come here. _What_ do you want?"

"I'm here to fetch you, of course. As a courtesy. You're late."

"I'm not going."

Klaus nodded as if he anticipated that response and Bonnie didn't disappoint. He and Dahlia had foreseen her resistance. If there were ever a witch who was moralistically ambiguous when it suited her, but shunned anything that hinted toward her own personal darkness, it was the young woman in front of him. Klaus caught every last one of the tremors she was working overtime to suppress.

He leaned against the doorframe. "I thought you were over this."

Bonnie scowled. "Over what?"

"I thought you were over pretending you have a conscience."

"I never—"

"—I thought you wanted to know what power and freedom tastes like, but I see you're too accustomed to eating and loving shit."

"You son of—"

"But you haven't changed in the slightest. You're still the martyr, still the _weak_ girl you've always been who can only muster up the strength to save her friends but never herself."

"I'm not doing this for them!" Bonnie snapped.

"Really? Could have fooled me. I almost bought your spiel about wanting to acquire power for yourself, but I see now that was bullshit."

"I _don't_ have to explain myself to you._ Leave_," Bonnie growled lowly, in warning. "I'm not going back. Tell your aunt I said thank you, but her brand of help is not what I need."

At first Klaus had been goading Bonnie for his own twisted amusement, but now his feigned anger was becoming real.

He straightened to his full height, "What exactly did you expect? Did you think I'd connect you with Glinda and the two of you would hop along the yellow brick road singing songs while acquiring friends on your way to Oz? What you're looking for there are but two ways to achieve: kill to get there or die to get there."

Bonnie flinched when he uttered the word kill.

"If you're refusing Dahlia's instruction, tell her yourself. May whatever god you believe in help you," Klaus turned to leave. He got no farther than the end of the pathway before he heard…

"I k-killed someone…last night."

Klaus regarded Bonnie who was staring down at her feet. He figured her cheeks would be wet with tears. There was not a drop present when she lifted her head. He couldn't exactly read her, or knew how to decode her stoicism. Klaus made no sudden moves as Bonnie stepped out of the house and took a few tentative steps. Her gaze drifted toward the night sky.

"I don't know who he was or what he had done or who loved him. _I _took his life. I can't act like that didn't happen."

Klaus sighed irritably. The witch was asking him to be something he rarely was—the good angel. "No one is asking you to." Big green eyes were on him. "No one is asking you to forget what you've done even if they don't say the words. Condemnation will come when you do something out of character. You feel remorse because you are a person who reveres life—mortal and immortal alike. That is who you are, Bonnie. Not one is asking you to stop being that version of yourself."

"But won't I have to? If I want to be as powerful as Dahlia?"

"Power doesn't always equate ending life. Power can equate sparing life."

Bonnie arched a brow. "I thought you would toot the opposite?"

Grinning boyishly, Klaus said, "I like to have it both ways. Your dilemma is still ongoing. Whether you continue or not…won't erase what's already been done. Death is an ugly part of life, but it's a part of life. Inescapable. Either you will be its slave or learn to be its master. I've chosen the latter. What about you? Be a slave to nothing, Bonnie Bennett."

Interesting choice of words from a former slave owner, she thought. Her mind wasn't completely made up, and the horror of what she did the night before remained ever present. If she gave up now she really had nothing to show for it. That, indeed, was a dilemma.

* * *

Stefan Salvatore observed the eight-legged creature try to claw its way out of its glass cage. Seated at the bar at Mystic Grill, he felt as predictable as the spider that he encased in a rock glass that tried valiantly to attack from different angles with no success. No matter what he did, Stefan couldn't escape his place of birth. Mystic Falls was his glass bubble.

And he couldn't figure out what kept him tethered here. It wasn't that his cuisine choices were so epicurean and exotic. Eat one girl-next-door and essentially you've eaten them all. The taste of their ambitions and life experience were the same. After school clubs and binge watching cable network shows, desires of falling in love with their lifelong crush. Repetitive and dull. No one bore the flavor of film noire femme fatales, metropolitan go getters, or hardcore revolutionaries with the free love mentality of the sixties.

He was bored.

"Hi, are you guys hiring?"

Stefan turned slightly at the sound of the accentuated voice. He blinked once getting a good look at the woman who had strolled to the bar standing one stool down from his, addressing the bartender. A Laguna Beach blonde with the body of a statuesque volleyball player who was into cutoff shorts, plaid shirts, and cowboy boots. She smelled of sun, sweat, and passion fruit.

Prayers do get heard.

A slow smile spread across Stefan's face as well as the bartender's.

"Not at the moment, no. We're fully staffed but you…ah…you can still fill out an application so that we have it on file in case anything changes."

The woman frowned a bit in disappointment yet perked up nonetheless, "Sure, that would be great. Thank you."

"I'll grab you one from the office. What's your name?"

"Taryn Reeds," she proffered her hand for a shake to which the bartender eagerly reciprocated.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Steve Stackhouse."

"Any relation to Sookie?"

Stefan snorted and tossed back his drink. Steve the bartender blushed and laughed while shaking his head in the negative. When he disappeared to get the application, Stefan saw his opportunity.

"If you're looking for a job, I hate to tell you Mystic Falls is the worst place to work."

Taryn leaned against the bar, sizing him up, "Oh really? Why do you say that?"

He regarded her, letting her marvel at the chiseled handsomeness that was his mug, which garnered plenty of thirsty admirers in the past. Taryn lifted a brow and inhaled.

"It's the worst place to work if you're drop dead gorgeous like yourself. You'll never get a moment's peace."

Taryn said nothing for a while then laughed. "Trust me, I don't let flattery get to my head and I'm used to it. There's more to me than what's on the outside."

Stefan's pupils dilated as he ensnared her, "Wanna show me?"

They fell into the bathroom kissing hungrily, his hands everywhere, her fingers doing a thorough job of messing up his hair. Stefan chuckled when his back was thrust into the wall. Aggression he liked it, and most notably he didn't have to compel Taryn to go the extra mile. He couldn't wait another second without fanging her, so he brushed Taryn's hair aside, tilted her neck to his preferred angle, struck.

Hot, delicious blood poured down his throat. Yes.

A minute later, Stefan ripped away, coughing and retching but it was too late. The entire orifice of his mouth, throat, and stomach was on fire. He fell to the floor, vision blurred, he knew these effects well. The effects of vervain.

The door to the bathroom creaked open. Boots walked along the tile and then a face was hovering above him.

"You look like you ate something that didn't agree with you, brother."

"Dam…" Stefan panted, clutching his stomach as he fought for lucidly. Lost.

* * *

Watching the back and forth motion of her windshield wipers put Bonnie into a trance. She needed to get out of the car, but she couldn't find the courage to do it. Dahlia had given her the chance to back out during their initial meeting. How she wished she'd taken it, but now that the offer was rescinded, off the table, Bonnie knew she had to see this to the end.

Would she recognize herself once it was over?

Her gag reflex fluttered in memory of puncturing a human heart with a ceremonial blade. Dahlia's hard hand had gripped her shoulder and told her step one was done. She was closer to being freer. Free from what? Guilt? Humanity?

Turning off the engine, Bonnie got out of the car.

She was in a different part of the woods tonight. For that Bonnie was a little grateful. She didn't think she could handle seeing that bloodstained rock plinth where she—yes, right moving on. Her footfalls decreased until she came to a stop having caught up to Dahlia.

Let the dreadful games begin, Bonnie thought sulkily. The torches were lit and she crossed its borders.

Dahlia somber and grave said, "You came back…I didn't think you would."

"I wasn't going to." Bonnie wouldn't credit Klaus' little pep talk as the reason why she had a change of heart. She couldn't let that man's death be for nothing, which made the acid in her stomach churn.

A corner of Dahlia's mouth lifted in something of a smile. She had sensed Bonnie's self-loathing from a mile away. The young woman had done the one thing she had criticized others for. The first kill was always the hardest as it threw people into a quagmire of unbelief at their own barbarism. What really unsettled the soul was the fact some found...enjoyment out of it.

Like the day before, she began to circle the Bennett girl, "I know you hate me for what I made you do, and I know you hate yourself for the act you committed."

"Who was he?"

Dahlia dismissed the question with a careless shrug, "Who he was is not important."

"It's important to me!" Bonnie declared. "I wanted help to get stronger, and I don't see how _killing_ someone helps with that."

"That's the issue here. You can't see. You can't see anything because your vision is so occluded by things that are beyond you. I'm not here to coddle you, Bonnie. I'm here to push you. You asked for this."

"I didn't ask for _that_."

"Semantics. I have no patience for tantrums and indecision. Either you want my help or you're wasting my time. Which will it be?"

Bonnie's chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked away willing her legs to carry her out of the woods, but…balling her hands, she eyed Dahlia with nothing less than contempt. That seemed to please her.

"Smart girl," Dahlia stopped moving, "What have you learned thus far?"

Not to trust you. Bonnie tucked her cold hands in her pockets, "To tell you the truth I don't think I learned anything."

"Indeed. Unlearning is harder than learning. You had to lean on your experiences, generational superstitions, and faulty information and that is quite simply a recipe for disaster. It will take time for you master many things," Dahlia waved her hand in an arc. "We simply don't have it. Time. You think last night was pushing your limits? I'm glad to prove you wrong."

The ground disintegrated as if being sucked into a black hole. A foul odor instantly swamped the area. Bonnie covered her nose and mouth but it she shouldn't have bothered.

Dahlia stood next to her, arms aloft, palms facing the sky. A shape began to rise from the hole, the grave Bonnie ratified as a decomposed body came into view.

Bonnie sucked in a massive breath. It was her. Two years decomposed. The blue of her cardigan was stained with the bodily fluids released upon death, but she saw signs of it here and there. Patches of skin was tight, leathery and blackened especially around her jaw which was barely attached. Calcified bones protruded through bits of maggot eaten flesh. Her lids were at half-mast revealing browned eyes.

"Wh-why are you showing me this?"

"As a reminder for what happens when you wield magic with no understanding of its properties, uncaring of how it will affect you. When I had your blood I saw your memories. I know you as intimately as the knife that was plunged in your belly."

"…stop…" Bonnie's breathing escalated while her blood pressure began to climb.

"That is why you need me," Dahlia said knowingly. "You want to be stronger than _him_? Then you need to face yourself at your weakest state," she pointed at Bonnie's rotted corpse. "Stare and remember."

Stare she did.

"You don't want to end up as food for the earth then what you need first and foremost is an anchor," Dahlia said.

That word made Bonnie cringe so she substituted it with something else. "A familiar, you mean?"

Dahlia nodded solemnly, "Though I hate the term as it inspires one to conjure a feline to spring to mind. You need something older than a mere animal for your anchor. For the anchor is what will ground you, but also give you the room and freedom to amplify your magic."

"So I'm guessing using a person is out as well?"

"You guess correctly," Dahlia began to assess Bonnie which did not put the younger witch at ease. The taste of Bonnie's power intermingled with that of her fear. It would take next to nothing to strip the Bennett witch since she was holding everything together between two fingertips. And had no idea.

Bonnie ordered her skin to calm down. She felt it pulling and contracting as Dahlia cleaved her apart with her eyes alone; repelled and drawn to her, terrified, and defensive.

"People are of two minds," Dahlia's voice burst through Bonnie's musings. "Two natures. And those two natures are in constant battle. It will do you no good to use a person as your magic would suffer. There are things which cannot change for _that _is their nature. You must find that element and meld your magic to it."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Bonnie jumped, twitched. "Everything has a cycle, therefore, everything changes."

Bonnie wouldn't say Dahlia smiled at her assessment. She seemed, maybe pleased she wasn't dealing with a total idiot.

"Again, you are right. Cycles happen because renewal must happen. But even in those cycles, the nature of the cycle does not change. For instance: life, death, the sun and moon, they are constant. They cannot cease being what they are. Do you understand?"

"I-I think so."

"Then find your anchor."

Bonnie was pushed into the hole with her corpse. She was not too proud to stifle her screams.

She landed on a hard and grainy surface, concrete. Tentatively opening her eyes the first thing Bonnie saw were tires and the chrome trim of a bumper. A car. Damon's car to be more precise. Dahlia had flung "her" to the boardinghouse garage.

Bonnie pushed herself up and glanced around confused about why she was here and dreading the lesson she was going to be "taught". The test in which Dahlia reached in and yanked out her insides to literally show her what she was made of. Bonnie hadn't stopped questioning if going through all this to learn how to prevent Kai from siphoning her magic was even necessary. He was human. He was not Klaus, Silas, hell, he wasn't Katherine either. Kai was sadistic and cruel, calculating and coldly charming. She had dealt with someone of his ilk before and survived. But…what would come after Kai, because there was always another monster waiting in the wings for its turn to kill you.

At the heart of everything, she wanted to avoid a pyrrhic victory.

Like the possessed automobile Christine, the Camaro's engine fired up. Bonnie jumped away from it. Toxic carbon monoxide and other harmful gases spewed from the exhaust pipe blanketing the floor in a plume of smoke within minutes.

Of course Dahlia would dredge up what Bonnie considered the lowest point of her life. Where she had finally accepted the fact she didn't matter enough to her friends for them to fight to come back and rescue her, that there was no getting out. Stuck. Alone. She couldn't do it anymore. They left her for dead so she might as well _be_ dead for real. Suicide on her birthday was her gift to herself.

Until she remembered what Grams told her and her fight was renewed. Stay strong. Despite how dismal things were she couldn't die in this place.

Now she was back.

Bonnie, petrified rushed to the connecting door that led into the house and couldn't open it. She ran to the garage doors themselves to lift from the bottom but again, they didn't budge.

How was entrapping her going to help her find a fucking anchor?

"Scaring me, that's your big tool to help me discover myself as a witch?" Bonnie yelled at the ceiling feeling pretty sure Dahlia could hear her.

The first rush of gas soaked into her lungs. She coughed violently and within seconds Bonnie was feeling loopy, discombobulated.

The scene around her blurred and she was now facing every single person who used her hollowed shell of a body to cross to the other side.

She remembered Dahlia's warning: it would be cruel.

* * *

He glanced up as Elena crept her way into the bathroom. Damon had sent Taryn on her way thanking her for her assistance. His girlfriend… her face was taut and Damon understood the reason for that. Two nights in a row he hadn't come home until the wee hours of the morning, and had yet to offer an explanation.

"Let's get him to the lake house."

"Are you sure _now_ is the time for this intervention?" Elena reached for one of Stefan's arms and yanked until he was sitting up.

"We don't have any other time to get my brother to flip his switch. With Klaus here, the last thing we need is those two teaming up. It has to be now."

"Whatever," Elena grumbled under her breath.

Damon ignored her surly attitude as he hefted Stefan over his shoulder and, sneaking out the back of the restaurant, loaded him in the backseat of his car.

It wasn't until Elena was buckled in the passenger seat did she pose another question. "What about your mother? Who's going to keep an eye on her while we work on Stefan?"

"I called Enzo."

"Enzo?" Elena scrunched her nose.

"As you can see I'm a bit short on vampire buddies who are in the area. Alaric is too human and on his way to being a dad. Matt is too stupid _and human_."

"And Bonnie?"

Hearing her name out of Elena's mouth made Damon's stomach plummet. He chanced a look at the doppelganger. "Bonnie has her hands full."

"You know that's not what I mean, Damon. You didn't get home until nearly four after the party, not to mention getting in around the same time last night. Were you with her both times or just the one? What were you two doing?"

"Not whatever you think we were doing. We were talking."

Elena turned toward the scenery passing through the window.

Bonnie's words taunted Damon. About his actions putting ideas into Elena's head. He knew what it looked like on the surface. That he was making himself vulnerable to cheating. But to him he could manage his friendship with Bonnie, and his relationship with Elena concurrently on top of getting his real brother back, and stopping whatever drama came next.

And none of that meant he was in love with Bonnie, Damon ruled.

Instead of making a tense situation even worse, the blue-eyed vamp remained mute on the thankfully short drive to the Gilbert lake house.

Within an hour they had reached their destination. Elena unlocked the door, unloaded their bags while Damon took care of strapping Stefan to a chair using the requisite vervain laced chains. She mindlessly followed Damon's instructions to slit Stefan's wrists, which was probably one of the most unpleasant things she's ever done, and stuck small pieces of wood inside the wounds so they wouldn't close. Bleeding him out, weakening him, Elena couldn't see how it would inspire Stefan to turn his humanity on. If anything, it would only serve to piss him off more. And once he learned he was their only subject of emotional subterfuge (Caroline was being postponed to another day), Elena was positive a lot of choice words were going to spew from her ex's mouth.

Inevitable.

Damon sat in a chair in front of his baby brother waiting for him to wake up, which he calculated would be in the next five minutes.

He shifted a bit as Elena perched her derrière on the arm of his chair.

Stefan moaned and rolled his head on his shoulders trying to pull himself away from the effects of the vervain. When he was lucid enough, he took in the sight of Damon, the doppelganger, and his chained up state.

"The only explanation I'll accept for being tied up like this is…you hired me a stripper. If not," he strained his arms testing the strength of his binds to discover he was too weak to move them an inch. Stefan laughed tiredly. "I honestly hate you people."

"You told me to bring you back, Stefan," Elena reminded. "It's it about time that we started."

His heavy head fell backwards and Stefan was dying of thirst. "So what are you going to do? Break up with my brother in front of me and say 'It's always going to be you, Stefan. I've only loved you'," he mimicked in a very bad falsetto before chuckling. "Is that how you plan to cure me, Elena? I'm actually kind of glad to let you know…your pussy may be good but it's not _that_ good."

Damon shot to his feet.

Stefan smirked at the fire beaming from his brother's eyes. "Oh right. Mr. Sensitivity. Doesn't like to be reminded that I nailed you first."

"All right that's enough!" Elena yelled. "You can try to slut shame me all you like, but it won't change the facts you're not getting out of that chair nor out of this house until you turn it on. And in case you think I may go easy on you," she flashed to the blinds and wrenched them open. Stefan started frying. "I won't."

* * *

A million hands reached inside of her, gouging, trying to rip out her skeleton and twist her organs into new shapes. Her screams were so loud they made her own ears bleed.

"Any time you want, you can end this," came Dahlia's disembodied voice.

She couldn't think beyond or outside of the pain. Life, death, sun, and the moon. Death couldn't be her anchor because people died in evil ways. Life was too precious to be tampered with. The moon was cold, and other than influencing tides it was honestly a rock in the sky. The sun, the biggest, brightest star in the galaxy. Without it there'd be no life, no warmth, no way to judge day from night. No time.

Could she handle it? The force and power of the sun? She was a witch who died, became the anchor, died again, and came back. Perhaps she wasn't wholly human? Hadn't Dahlia alluded to that? The power of a hundred witches could have killed her. Expression overwhelmed and murdered her. What would anchoring her magic to the sun do?

Only one way to find out.

The sun was incalculably hot. You'd die way before touching its surface. Bonnie's will was to burn. Scorch. Raze whatever touched her to ash. Her heart gave a strange flutter, her blood boiled, and her magic shot out like a geyser. Fire, her constant. It's toxic perfume, the child of a chemical reaction. The sun was fire. A contained ball of fire and gas. She kissed it on the lips and took it into her soul.

But it hurt. _How_ it hurt. It hurt so much that the pieces of herself she shredded something was birthed out of the fragments. And whatever it was, Bonnie didn't understand it. It was formless, conscious-less, but it hungered and ached, shivered. She was going mad.

_If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it. _

* * *

Bonnie woke up extremely thirsty and groggy. Something fuzzy brushed her nose that she swatted away and, after blinking a few times to see what it was, she frowned once recognizing Ms. Cuddles.

How did she get here? Wait, how did _she_ get home?

Rolling over, Bonnie received her answer. Damon was seated on the floor, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out, well-muscled back propped up against the wall. He lifted his head toward her, eyes bright but guarded. They stared at one another searchingly.

Damon was on his feet before Bonnie could even form questions, creeping his way to the foot of the bed. Bonnie tried to decipher the expression on his face, but being mentally and physically exhausted delayed the translation. Yet she forced herself to focus. He was worried. Deeply.

In lieu of talking, Bonnie threw back the duvet in invitation for Damon to join her.

He hesitated for a moment but eventually toed off his boots and lied down next to her.

In the time since living together this was probably the quietest they had ever been. Even while asleep, Bonnie's muttering disturbed his rest most nights, but the sound of her disjointed words had become reassuring. Now with the quiet magnified by his contemplations—that revealing conversation with Dahlia, Damon was hypersensitive to everything. His proximity to Bonnie on the bed, her warmth, her pulse, her breathing shouldn't be as sacred and precious to him as they were, and he felt utterly helpless to stop caring.

"Do you know how long you were gone?"

"No?" Bonnie whispered.

"Seven days."

Her eyes bulged, "_Seven_ days? How?"

"I don't know. I nearly tore this town apart trying to find you. I had Ric stake out this house and he called me to say you finally showed up. What did…"

Bonnie closed her eyes and let out such a tired sigh, Damon ended his inquisition.

"You want to talk about it?"

A moment or two passed and she shook her head. "No," she rasped.

"Just answer this, did she hurt you?"

Damon watched as several emotions ransacked Bonnie. "No more or less than what I've dealt with in the past.

"Bon…"

"Damon," Bonnie cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I'll be…okay with Dahlia for the most part."

He grunted. "That will remain to be seen. If she starts pushing you too hard I want to know about it."

"And what do you plan to do, Damon? This chick has nine hundred years on you. She's absolutely lethal, and you wouldn't get close enough to tickle her with your pinky."

"You really know how to kick the pseudo hero legs out from under someone. Can I live in the fantasy I'm not as easy to kill as people like to think I am?"

A ghost of a smirk appeared and Bonnie shrugged, "If you must."

"Thank you," Damon replied proudly. He rolled to his back, rose his arms above his head. His shirt rode up revealing that sliver of torso where his abs tapered into that notorious V. From this angle Bonnie could just about make out the outline of his…

She changed the direction of her thoughts by plucking a line of dirt from beneath the nail of her ring finger. Seven days. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact she had been with Dahlia for seven days when it felt like it had been a few hours.

Did she anchor her magic to the sun? She needed to see. Bonnie flung the covers off.

"Where are you going?" Damon asked as Bonnie sat up.

"I need to see something."

His objection died on his tongue. He sat up quickly with enough speed that brought a wind with his movement that fluttered through Bonnie's hair.

"How the hell did this happen?"

Bonnie twisted to the right and felt a sharp pain that was forgotten once she saw that her best friend's eyes weren't stapled to hers but to something else.

Her shirt had ridden up exposing her back. There was a fading, bluish-purple bruise around her hip. When his cool fingers brushed along the area, Bonnie sucked in a breath.

"I really couldn't tell you how that happened," she admitted.

Damon's brow was puckered, tight with anger and something else he couldn't really put a name to. Unconsciously his fingers slid around to her front and bumped into the two major scars left by Kai.

Bonnie went stiff, held her breath. She waited for Damon to snatch his hand away, but his fingers continued to linger and linger and eventually began tracing the shape of the jagged scar left by the knife, and the depression in her skin inflicted by the arrow. Everything in Bonnie was telling her to get the vampire's hand off of her by any means necessary, yet she faltered. Damon's molars cinched on top of one another as he saw himself pulling the arrow out not really taking into account it would hurt just as much. He had been intent to give her blood, but Kai made sure he never got the chance.

His voice was soft when he offered, "I can reopen them both, heal them with my blood."

The temptation was sweet, light-headedness inducing, but Bonnie declined. "I need them until this is over," she pushed his hands away.

Damon watched her for a moment. "We're going to do something fun today."

"No, we're not. I'm tired," Bonnie quickly shot that notion down.

Undeterred, Damon stated, "Tough titty. We are getting out of here. I suggest you shower and throw on some clothes."

"Damon, when I say I'm tired, I'm not saying it because I ain't in the mood to be social. I'm saying it because it's taking all my concentration to keep my skin on my bones."

The raven-haired vampire looked thoughtful but in the next breath hefted a shoulder, "You missed a week, had to be Klaus' date and were accidentally sat on fire. You need to unwind."

"Don't you have a brother to re-humanize?"

"That's not even a word and you're stalling. Get. Up."

"Damon," Bonnie gritted between clenched teeth.

He flashed a dangerous smile. "You know arguing is foreplay to me. So unless you want me to get an erection, I suggest you make tracks to the bathroom. _Please_?"

The bathroom…her clothes…the man she killed. Dahlia. Stricken, she stared at Damon who reached for her hand.

"Bonnie, what is it?" he asked though he knew.

"I…"

**A/N: Thank you for reading. Please leave some feedback for this tired of the bullshit writer. Love you, guys. Oh, and that line "If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it" is a quote from Zora Neale Hurston. **


	11. Chapter 11

_Little artificial moonbeams of light flew from broken fluorescent bulbs dangling from the ceiling at Mystic Falls High. Papers and other school paraphernalia littered the floor. A water fountain was crushed within itself leaking H2O by the liter turning the pale cream linoleum into a slippery electrical hazard. A majority of the metal locker doors were open, their contents turned into confetti. _

_Her boots crushed broken glass. Absently she could hear a fire alarm blaring in the distance, but it competed with four years of memories patrolling these halls. Standing on the outskirts of the trio, laughing, and popping gum while swaying her hips in her cheerleading skirt. _

_Young, beautiful, incorruptible. _

_Lifting a hand, Bonnie Bennett trailed her sensitive fingertips along the painted cinderblock walls, little bolts of electricity sprouting from her nail beds. _

_Her footsteps faltered outside of Alaric's old classroom. She looked in, nostalgically remembering the way he breezed inside and introduced himself using his "from up north" humor to break the ice. She remembered casting her first locator spell in that room, and the subsequent nosebleed that followed shortly after. _

_It was in ruins now. The teacher's desk tipped over, windows shattered, blackboard barely hanging on to the…_

_A loud, bloodcurdling scream made Bonnie's head snap forward. Gritting her teeth, she advanced down the hall making sure to remain light on her feet, but her pounding heart gave her away, nonetheless. She rounded a corner, came to a stop. _

_She was no longer in the school, but a corridor of the hospital. _

_Grunts, pleas, cries for assistance could be heard from every corner of the hall. It was unnervingly quiet from those who were already dead._

_Countless bodies riddled the floor, arms and legs twisted like dolls; smoke saturated the air, fires burned here and there. It was a warzone. _

_Blood. There was so much of it spilled it coated the floor like a layer of ice. Looking down at her hands and arms they were drenched, caked underneath her nails that they appeared black. The scent of it corroded all other smells until the metallic saltiness of blood was the only thing to see, taste, breathe. _

_Bullets whizzed by Bonnie's head, some tearing pea sized holes in the walls. Other bullets hit the ground causing shrapnel to fly into the air. Something struck her in the shin and she went down, hard. Groaning, Bonnie clasped her leg. Looking to her left she could see into the triage area. Two men were there. One standing, the other kneeled on the ground._

_The round end of the shotgun pointed right between lapis eyes was meant to be intimidating. But really he found it amusing._

_His arm shot out lightning fast seizing the end of the shotgun, ripping it from the hands of his tracker. He bent the metal, muscles barely twitching or straining against the effort it would take to bend steel. He hissed slightly as he caught, in his peripheral, more idiots like the one before flooding into the room. _

"_You're not getting out of here alive," a random deputy shouted. "So STAND down!"_

_Damon Salvatore grinned maliciously. His head turned to the side, unnaturally, like his neck was broken. He declared, "What do you know? Neither are you."_

"_Can logic and rationalism really win over antipathy?"_

_Bonnie's eyes widened at the sound of _**his**_ voice._

"_While you're consumed with saving the lives of innocents, the one who really doesn't give a damn has already fled the scene with the spoils. I know in every story the lesson people are supposed to walk away from is that good triumphs over evil. But this is real life and in real life sometimes…well sometimes the bad guy wins."_

_Kai Parker strolled closer as if he had not a care in the world._

_He stood poised over Bonnie and kneeled. He pushed strands of hair behind her ear, relishing the look of hatred in her eyes. "I did wish things could have been different between us." _

**Damon, help me**_, Bonnie urged in the far recesses of her mind. _

_Kai's cold fingers gripped her chin and forcefully made her stare at him. "Stop looking to him to save you. He can't. He won't. I've made sure of that," he snapped his fingers and magicked Damon's heart to his hand. _

_That wasn't what made her scream. No. She screamed when Kai took a bite out of it._

"**De**_licious." _

Bonnie startled awake.

Three.

That was the third dream about Kai though it was vastly different from the first two. In those dreams the setting had been clear—Jo and Alaric's wedding, the massacre of the Gemini coven, Kai blaming her for shit that wasn't her fault. In this dream he had been mentally stable and even philosophical. Most insane people were highly intelligent, Bonnie thought gloomily. Kai had also been controlled when before he relished in the chaos.

A change in the vision often meant someone made a decision that's created, in short, an alternate reality, or an alternate set of possibilities.

Who changed it? The setting not being the only thing that changed, Damon dying was a new element that made her skin pebble into goose bumps.

She called him.

"Yello?"

"Dream number three happened," she panted shakily.

"Tell me."

Bonnie hesitated but told him everything, finishing with, "…he had your heart in his hand and he ate it."

Damon sighed-laughed. "He could have cooked it first. Sautéed it, maybe. My heart deserves some kind of presentation."

"This isn't a joke."

"I know that," he sobered, "Think the change in setting means anything?"

It could mean a lot of things, yet she wasn't a dream interpreter and there was no way to know what significance any of it held. The fact of the matter was this: she dreamt about Kai for the _third_ time. He was coming. Bonnie said as much.

"I'll be there in about an hour," Damon promised.

"You don't have to come over."

"We need to get our ducks in a row, Bon. This time we're not going to be scrambling around looking for last minute loopholes. All right?"

"Fine."

They hung up but Bonnie didn't climb out of bed right away. She gnawed the corner of her lip as she combed through that dream once again. Twenty minutes passed before she became cognizant that Damon was on his way, and she needed to shower and dress.

He was early when he knocked on her front door. Donned in her robe, skin still damp and warm, Bonnie padded downstairs to let him in. "Hey."

"Hey," Damon tried not to let his eyes wander to the gap in her robe that revealed her rounded globes and pert nipples that tented the silky fabric, or to her bare legs and feet. Unfortunately his mind being a terribly dirty place, he was cruelly reminded he hadn't had sex in weeks. Has it really been weeks, Damon frowned as he swept inside and closed the door after him. His unintentional celibacy wasn't helped by the sweet fragrance of honey and passion fruit Bonnie bathed herself in. Top it off with the gushy thump of her heart, her warm blood, and another distinct scent—Damon sniffed—sunlight, Bonnie was provoking the vampire in him to come out to play. Eat.

Like she sensed it Bonnie tightened her robe, "Give me two minutes to throw some clothes on."

It took fourteen.

By the time she emerged Damon had convinced the blood in his body not to head to one central location.

Bonnie planted herself between his legs giving him her back. "Can you zip me up?"

Being eye-level with her ass, Damon found it safer to get to his feet, better to tower over her. She had pulled her long hair to one side so it wouldn't catch in the teeth of the zipper; her focus was locked on the book in her hand, and with him standing, Damon could now recognize what it was. A grimoire. He had never seen it before. The script was tiny, the language unfamiliar, but Bonnie apparently had no issue reading or translating the contents.

When he gripped her blouse's zipper, he asked, "Where'd you get that?"

"Klaus."

Damon almost broke the damn zipper after hearing that name. "Klaus?"

"Yes, the dude with the insanely full and red lips we unsuccessfully tried to murder," Bonnie glance up at him over her shoulder. "He's loaned me seven grimoires. All of them way older than Emily's."

The correct way to view Klaus' "generosity" was to see it as an advantage but Damon didn't like it. Unconsciously, his hand fell to Bonnie's hip, a finger somehow sneaking its way under the hem of her blouse to touch bare skin.

"What is he getting in return?" his gaze narrowed. "The man isn't known for doing things out of the goodness of his heart. You're not his witch or…something, are you?"

Bonnie heard the inflection in Damon's voice and smirked. "No, I'm not his witch, bitch, hoe, or slave. I told him from jump because of the times I saved him when I could have let him die, he owed me."

Damon observed as Bonnie gently tossed the grimoire on the coffee table. He said nothing when she faced him. They were wedged nearly chest-to-chest in the tight space between the couch and table.

Yesterday they barely made it out the door before Bonnie complained of a raging migraine that made her nauseous. He fed her some soup, closed all the curtains because she said the light hurt her eyes, and tucked her into bed. She looked better today, almost too pretty, too bright.

"The sun…every time I close my eyes, I see the sun," she had murmured in her sleep.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm better than yesterday."

"Good."

"If we're going to hammer out a plan we need to bring Jo and Alaric in on this. We agreed that if I dreamt about that asshole again, we'd tell them."

"On second thought, I don't want to talk about this."

Bonnie gaped, "You were the one who said we needed to have our ducks in a row."

"Yes, but I've realized since you've been back it's been one conversation about Kai after another. And if you're not talking about Kai, you're talking about magic."

"So…"

"You need a day to detox."

"Damon, I'll detox once we have something in place, execute it, and execute him."

Taking her by the shoulders, Damon bent his knees to stare Bonnie directly in the eyes, "I'm not going to let you repeat old habits where you become so fixated on something you think the only way through is by dying."

"That's not what I think." Bonnie attempted to wiggle free.

Damon gripped her harder. "It is. I promised you a day of fun and that's what we're gonna do, dammit. Have fun. Move your ass to the car."

An hour later they were on the move.

Damon took her to the lone movie theater in town and bought tickets to World War Z.

"I hate zombies," Bonnie whined and complained as they left the concession stand and headed toward their designated theater.

"That's surprising. You dated one for five hundred years."

"Eat a dick."

"Then again," Damon continued, ignoring Bonnie's retort, "zombies have more personality and spunk than Jeremy. Have I told you lately what terrible taste you have in men?"

"Does this terrible taste in men extend to best friends, too?" Bonnie smiled sweetly.

"Blow me."

They settled dead center in the middle of the theater in reclining seats and put their feet up. Bonnie sighed pleasurably at the tray balanced on her lap ready to gorge on the popcorn, hotdog, Sour Patch Kids, and gallon-sized mystery flavor Icee Damon was nice enough to buy for her. For himself, the vampire purchased nachos, popcorn, and Bunch-A-Crunch. Naturally he smuggled in a flask of bourbon and tried to pour some in Bonnie's drink. She slapped his hand away.

Bonnie hadn't been to the movies in forever and tried to contain how giddy she was to do something normal. She whipped out her phone, took selfies and pictures of their snacks. Damon watched her from the corner of his eye, smirking, feeling pleased with himself.

The theater filled to about half of its capacity, if that. Only one other couple sat on their row. The lights dimmed and the previews started.

* * *

Cold. Wet. Dark. Endless. Suffocating. Never enough time to prepare. Never enough time for anything. Memories. Painful. Haunting. Companions. That's all there was left. No, that wasn't true. There was desperation. A need to move, a need to fight, a need for blood. A need to stretch. Gotdamn I can't move. Those things, those necessities would never go away, never melt into the shadows.

Why him?

Water engulfing and taking him under like quicksand. He was floating. Skin pale. Desiccated beyond recognition. Turning into paste. Burning with hunger.

His eyes were open. There was nothing to look at but a sea of darkness. No swirls of light. No morning sun. No moonlight. No fresh air.

Oh, yes he remembered those things well, but the lack of those things burned acidic and caused his fangs to thrash deep into his bottom lip drawing only a drop of blood. Hungrily he lapped it up and then…the water drowned him again. Eyes closed.

He had to get out. The panic was coming back. Fist knocking, denting metal but he couldn't break out. It was stronger than him. Nothing should be stronger than him, but it was.

Stefan gasped as he sprung up startled in the chair. "STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Elena merely stared blankly at him in response. She had been at it for the last three hours, twisting his dreams to those three months he spend drowning. Progress, she hadn't made a dent of progress since Damon abandoned her to run off. Tightly she folded her arms across her chest, glowering at Stefan.

"Why are you doing this?" he coughed. "Why do you even care, Elena? Hun?"

"You're my friend, Stefan," she answered quietly.

"Really?" he chuckled sardonically.

"Yes. And I know it sounds absurd and shouldn't be possible because of everything that's happened, but you're still important to me," pause. "I didn't realize how much until…until I had dinner with your mom."

To that Stefan rolled his eyes, "How sweet. Lemme guess, she questioned you on your dating background and had to come clean on boning not one but both of her sons. How'd she take that?"

Elena shifted on the arm of her chair. "Not well."

Snickering, "I imagine no mother would, not even the piss poor ones. Your head still being firmly attached to your shoulders, guess Lily doesn't care," he shrugged. "She wouldn't be the first one."

"Stef…I care about you _because _I love you. I mean…"

"Oh, I get what you mean," he shot her a look. "You can only love me when you're in pain. Damon is the one who makes you feel alive, right? Gag me. You and Katherine, true pieces of work you are. You two may have loved me first, but your actions said I wasn't enough. And it's cool," Stefan rushed on when Elena opened her mouth to object. "We weren't meant to be and we're better off without each other. Wouldn't you agree?"

Elena, surprised her automatic response that she had to swallow down was: No she didn't agree. Instead, she went with, "Stefan I never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah and I'm sure Jeffrey Dahmer never meant to eat his victims brains. Hurt me or love me, I don't give a single fuck. You once said to Bonnie that she's a reminder of every bad thing that's ever happened to you."

"My humanity was off," Elena spat defensively.

"Well, boo things are full circle," the ripper in Stefan smiled broadly. "I used to look at you and see everything I hated about myself. The sight of you made me _sick_." Stefan leaned forward. "You should want my humanity to stay off because it's the only way I'm tolerating you," he saw her eyes turn misty. "What? Are you gonna cry?" he snickered.

By the blind force of her will Elena remained seated versus flying over to Stefan to smash his jaw to pieces. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, she slammed her eyes closed and dunked Stefan back into his worst nightmare.

* * *

Ten minutes into the movie and Bonnie was already gripping his arm and snapping her eyes closed. Damon smothered his chuckles the best he could. It was amusing this chick who faced off with Originals and psychopaths with no problem could barely sit through a thriller.

He leaned across the arm rest, "You're making the Bennett name proud by silently shrieking every five seconds."

Bonnie glowered, "I've been learning from a 1,000 year old witch who's meaner than her entire family combined. You really wanna make fun of me?"

Damon recognized, no, he did not want to make fun of Bonnie, and be on the receiving end of whatever deadly spells Dahlia taught her. However, he saw Bonnie fighting off a smile.

"It's okay to admit that you like being scared, BonBon. That you like the way your muscles clench, like how your breath hitches while you wait for what's scaring you to catch you."

Her lower lip dropped open just enough for Damon to catch a hint of her bottom teeth. That normally happened on two occasions. When Bonnie was about to launch into a lecture, or when she was turned on. Live with someone, you pick up their tell. She was showing hers though it was difficult for Damon to decipher which he'd actually be met with.

Bonnie did the interpreting for him. "Fear doesn't turn me on."

"No?"

"It doesn't. Why would I find fear sexy?"

"Because of the way it makes your body feel. Out of control. Chock-full of adrenaline and dopamine."

"I don't need fear for that."

Damon shrugged lazily, "You're right. You don't," he didn't say anything after that. Merely settled in his seat and gave his devout attention to the screen.

Bonnie tried to do the same. Braving the quiet lull happening in the movie though her stomach tightened with anticipation of another zombie ambush. Out of her peripheral, the couple who sat two seats down was tongue-wrestling. Bonnie watched them, heads bobbing and weaving in the shadows. If she listened carefully she'd probably hear them moaning. She was positive Damon could. Old her would have sucked her teeth in disgust at their ribald display. New her was envious. The knots in her belly failed to ebb away. They grew the longer she looked. She turned away and found her gaze deadlocked with Damon's.

Converge.

That piercing eye contact. The wave of awareness. Ragged like nails pushing through the walls of a settled house. Raw as electricity.

Bonnie felt like she was drowning in magma. Heat flushed her and was the heaviest in her breasts and twat. At the same time she was weightless, and any moment she expected to float out of the reclining chair. The hook keeping her in place was the intensity arrowing from Damon straight to her core. He was everywhere. Touching without touching. What was he thinking? Was he thinking the same thing she was?

Bonnie thought she got her answer when Damon parted his lips and she saw the tip of his tongue wet the seam. Her heartbeat tripled, quadrupled. It climbed to her throat when Damon glanced to her chest apparently listening to it pound like a hammer.

The conversation they had the Bed &amp; Breakfast where she asked him point blank if he ever thought about kissing her flashed like warning lights. Bonnie's stomach flipped with an amalgam of emotion, the strongest being _desire _the weakest being _caution_. Girl code, cardinal rules Bonnie was beginning to view them as inapplicable. She was above them. Ascended.

Damon could see that as plain as day. His breathing spurt a little faster, chest rose higher and higher with each passing second. When he wasn't locked down he lived according to his own drummer, and when the drummer told him to kiss a pretty girl, take her home and fuck her, he did just that. The drummer had been quiet the last two years with good reason, but he could vaguely hear the rumble of drums, very faint, growing louder and louder as he held Bonnie's gaze. The leather under his butt squeaked when he leaned to his left, closer. Bonnie copied him, inching closer. Eyes half-lidded.

They widened until they bulged when his phone rang _loudly _stirring up a chorus of hisses and shouts to turn his damn phone off.

Bonnie, cheeks hot, scooted as far as the chair would allow away from Damon who fumbled for his phone.

Without a word he palmed the device after silencing it and took the stairs two at time, exiting the theater.

* * *

"Where are you, Damon?" whined Elena.

He couldn't tell her the truth. That he had shirked his big brother duties in order to take Bonnie to the movies and came too damn close to kissing her. Damn, was I really going to kiss her? Damon stabbed his fingers through his hair. And what was he more annoyed at? For being weak or for being interrupted? Damon didn't want the answer.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he finally replied.

"You've already been gone for…you know what. If you're not going to do your part in helping your brother why are we even bothering?"

"Elena, I'm sorry, but you know how full and tied my hands are. I'll be back as soon as I ca…"

She hung up.

Cursing, Damon turned off his phone and thrust it into his pocket. If he kept this up he wouldn't have a girlfriend. He glared at the door of the theater. Dahlia's warning boomed loud and clear, and Damon would be the first to admit he wasn't good at listening to sound advice. But if he ended this outing with Bonnie, she could withdraw. Maybe take it the wrong way that he was rejecting her. Or not prioritizing her. Thus, the domino effect would take place leading things back to square one where Bonnie inevitably bit off more than she could chew. Or maybe he was giving himself far too much credit. Either way, Damon couldn't risk it. Stefan wouldn't be going anywhere _unless_ Elena freed him. Plus, it wouldn't hurt the doppelganger to stew since her problems—well they had always been plucked from her grasp and solved for her.

He dashed back inside the theater and retook his seat. Bonnie glanced at him, mouth in a tight line, entire body rigid.

"Do you need to go?" she whispered.

"No. I'm staying right here."

Damon pretended not to see the triumphant smile that lit her face.

* * *

It came as no surprise that a single masquerade party could liven up the town. That it would beckon the citizens out of hibernation, see the world in brighter colors, believe the gloom had passed. A spark of rejuvenation and pride had lit fires that had long since been doused. Winter signs were swapped out with spring banners. Two days of consistently sunny and warm weather enticed families to congregate on the grassy knoll in the center of town, throw picnics, fly kites, toss footballs and baseballs to their children. It brought out the home bodies and introverts who found benches or nooks where they could read, study, or drink coffee in peace while enjoying the atmosphere. Rambunctious dogs barked and horse played with fellow companions or their owners. Mystic Falls in springtime was an idyllic scene.

Too bad Bonnie couldn't enjoy it.

"STOP!"

Bonnie dropped her arms, thankful for the reprieve. She managed not to collapse to her hands and knees. Since her arrival, after her outing with Damon whom she tried to displace from her mind, the elder witch worked her over. Attacking Bonnie without warning to gauge how quickly she could think, move, and improvise as needed. Barely having time to calculate, recalibrate, and execute, the two of them left their marks all over the forest in the form of large craters in the ground, bent or warped trees, and the dense smell of smoke.

Bonnie angled her head toward Dahlia who frowned severely.

"You're off," Dahlia criticized. "Is this how you come to me? Sloppy and uncoordinated?"

"Look, lady I'm working my ass off…I was gone—missing by all accounts for seven days trying to anchor my magic, and I still have no idea if it even worked! So excuse me for not being the perfect super soldier at the snap of your fingers!"

Dahlia unmoved by Bonnie's outburst tilted her chin, "Are you quite finished? Should I put a name to the reason your thoughts are occupied."

"Please don't."

"I've warned him to step aside, to keep away because he is a costly distraction you can ill-afford."

"Damon is a lot of things but he's not a distraction." Bonnie wanted to add that he was the key component to getting her magic back, to saving her life, but sentimentality bored Dahlia and she wouldn't care. She found and labeled Damon a nuisance and hindrance and that opinion wasn't going to change.

Closing the gap, Dahlia stood in front of Bonnie, looked deep in her soul. "You want him."

Bonnie immediately squeaked, "No, I don't."

"You're afraid that he means more to you than you mean to him."

"Can we get back to training?"

"You'll never be what I need you to be if you don't confront this, Bonnie."

"There's nothing to confront. Damon is my friend. We're friends. That is it."

Closer Dahlia moved, her lips right at Bonnie's ear. "Shall I prove that as true or false?"

"No."

Dahlia leaned back, studying her. "I want to believe you. Want to believe you're fully commitment to this, and that you'll let nothing stand in your way. I need certain assurances."

"My word isn't good enough?" Bonnie's forehead dimpled.

"You want to know if you were able to anchor your magic. Let's see if you did," Dahlia reached inside her pocket and pulled out a damask handkerchief. She unfurled it showing Bonnie the contents. Two stands of hair.

"What are you doing?"

Dahlia pricked her finger and dripped her blood on the hairs, balled the handkerchief in her fist and sent it up in flames. She hummed and as she did so the wind blew cold and sharp across Bonnie's face nearly robbing her of breath.

"This spell is now binding unless one of the three things happens. My death, you succumb, or you _break _it, proving your magic being stronger and superior to mine."

Bonnie gulped, "What. Did. You. Do?"

For the first time since meeting her, Dahlia graced Bonnie with a smile that vanished the instant it appeared. "You and Damon are going to feel quite…amorous toward one another within the next hour or so."

A vise was around Bonnie's neck making it impossible to swallow, "What?"

"You two will want nothing save each other. Each hour you go without the other will only make the yearning stronger, more potent, more vicious in your need to couple."

Bonnie stared aghast. This woman had to be fucking with her. "You…whyyyyy? Why are you doing this? Do you hate the idea of witches actually giving a damn about something other than magic?" Bonnie gripped her hair, distraught. "You're doing this because on my _third_ day of training I'm having an off day?"

"I explained to you my reasons," Dahlia said patiently. "You did not see what I saw when you emerged from the ground. And because you did not see, you don't believe it worked. Unleash what's in you and forget the rest."

Taking in a lungful of air and shaking her head, tears pricked Bonnie's eyes. "If I'm not strong enough and he and I…that would be a form of rape, forcing us through a spell to have sex."

"Then I suggest you do everything in your power to make sure it doesn't end that way."

"You're a cold, heartless bitch."

Dahlia's head cocked to the side. "Yes. I know. And so are your enemies. They'll always think of some way to make your life hell if they don't outright kill you. Not today but one day, you'll thank me for this."

Bonnie scoffed in disgust. She would thank Dahlia all right by stepping over her dead body.

Green eyes darkened with determination. "I brought myself back from the prison world. I'll break your spell."

Dahlia inclined her head. "That was easy. Stopping yourself from doing what you know deep down you want…Good luck, witchling."

* * *

Bonnie ripped through the door of Rebekah's house, beads of sweat peppered along her hairline. She collided with the coffee table after dashing in a sprint to reach it, clamoring for the grimoire she had dropped there when Damon…

Her heart sped at the thought of his name. Frantically she checked the time. She had left Dahlia twenty minutes ago, that meant she had forty left before madness kicked in. Bonnie's fidgeting fingers flipped through the pages trying to be delicate and careful since the book was so old, but damn that.

"Give me what I need," she whispered then barked when nothing jumped out at her.

Shooting to her feet, Bonnie raced upstairs, careening into the bedroom where she stomped to the bay window seat where she stored the other grimoires. She opened the compartment.

Her phone rang. Huffing, Bonnie glared at the screen. Matt.

"I can't talk right now, Matt," she answered as she collapsed to her knees, digging through the collection of spell books.

"Miss Bennett."

Bonnie froze. That wasn't the handsome, former quarterback calling her, but the mother of the man she was going to want to fuck like no one's business in less than an hour.

"Mrs. Salvatore…what have you done to Matt?"

"He'll wake up in a few minutes or so. I need to see you. If you want your friend Matt to remain, well less unharmed than he is right now, you'll agree to meet with me."

Kill him for all I care because I'm going through my own crisis, Bonnie had to bite down on her tongue to keep from saying. "I know what you want. I can't help you."

"I'm saddened to hear that, Bonnie. My son is very fond of you."

Yeah, and if I can't break this spell, he'll be even fonder. "That's terrific and I'm sure I know where this is going. You'll threaten to tie him into a pretzel if I don't help you release your family. Here's the thing about your boy, he's hard to kill. Everyone he's encountered, myself included has failed to deep six him. That means murder, in case you were wondering. So do what the hell you need to do, Lily because I'm going to do what I need to do," Bonnie mashed the end button and called Damon. She let out a cry of frustration when it routed to voicemail. "Hey, it's me. I don't have a lot of time to say this so I'll make this quick.

"My lovely mentor has us under a spell which is probably gonna kick in in the next half-hour. You're gonna be overwhelmed with the urge to fuck…me," Bonnie paused, staunching the urge to let out a stream of profanity. "Whatever you do, you need to stay away from me, Damon. Lock yourself up if you have to. I'm working on breaking it and until I do we can't see each other. I'm not joking about this. Stay. Away. Oh, and Lily called me. She's done something to Matt. If you could check to make sure he's still alive, that would be peachy. Gotta go, got a pus—spell to break."

Bonnie tossed her phone, shifted from foot to foot. "Okay, think, Bonnie, think."

She heard her name being called. The blood drained from her head. Damon was there.

**A/N: As the show hops on its final toe to the end, I feel the same has happened with fanfic. Maybe it's already happened, IDK. I just feel like everything is dead now. But I want to squeeze out as much as I can before the plug is pulled. Anyways, thank you for reading. XOXO. Please, review, let me know what you think. I highkey value your feedback. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: It's amazing when an idea pops up into your head, you go with it thinking it'll be easy to write. Wrong. Wrong. Nevertheless, thank you guys for being patient. I hope you're still reading this. Enjoy!**

* * *

He thundered down city streets in the belly of an iron horse, revving the 360 horsepower engine putting as many miles between him and a certain beguiling enchantress.

"_No, no, no, NO!" Bonnie thundered down the stairs nearly crashing to the floor when she barely cleared the last one as she flew into the living room. She waved her arms back and forth as if she were banging cymbals or trying to redirect a plane. _

"_You cannot be here, Damon."_

_He stood next to the coffee table, eyebrows kissing his hairline wondering what crawled up her ass. He had just opened his mouth to fire out a quip, but the unspoken quip turned into a frown at the vise-like grip Bonnie placed on his arm as she tried, unsuccessfully, to hustle him to the door. _

"_Is this any way to treat a man after he took you to the movies and bought you enough junk food to last a week? I mean, really, Bon gotta work on that gratitude."_

_Sighing at his childishness, Bonnie squared herself as she looked at him dead in the eye. "Did you get my message?"_

"_No."_

_Bonnie pushed up the sleeves of her Nike workout jacket, "Dahlia has us under a spell, and if I don't figure out how to break it in, oh the next fifteen minutes, we're going," she paused. It was easier saying it to his voicemail system but his face? Bonnie plowed on knowing when dealing with Damon you had to deal in loopholes, absolutes, and bluntness. "We're going to want to have sex. With. Each. Other. Badly," her cheeks stung profusely. _

_Damon cocked his head, squinted, said nothing._

_Then he grinned. Smiled. Chortled. Laughed. Cackled. Bent over at the waist, grabbed his knees and guffawed to the point he was wheezing._

_Bonnie went rigid before tossing her hands in the air. Leave it up to him to find this entire messed up situation funny as hell. Part of her was offended that he found humor in the fact he'd been spelled to have sex with her of all people, but there was the more pressing part of Bonnie that just wanted Damon gone so she could concentrate on once again saving the damn day. There was an another piece of her, small though it was, that didn't even want to bother to lift a finger, content to let the spell ride out and see how Damon liked those apples. But she vetoed the idea knowing she'd suffer right along with him. _

"_Get out!" Bonnie jeered._

"_Wait," Damon caught her wrist as she pivoted to leave him to his laughing. "Wait. Are you…serious?"_

_Her voice pitched to a shrill, "You think I'm making this up?! For what reason? You and I both know if I want…" Bonnie swallowed those words. _

_Intrigued, Damon stood a bit taller in his boots, chest expanded. "You and I both know you what?"_

"_It doesn't matter. You need to leave. NOW!" _

"_Nope, not until I hear all the details."_

"_I don't—we don't have time for details! You need to believe me when I say that Dahlia did a spell to fuck us," she ignored the pun. "And I need you far away so I can fix it. But I do need something from you, though. Your blood," Bonnie raced into the kitchen and came back with a glass. She thrust it toward Damon who merely stared at it like he'd never seen a cup a day in his life. "Come on. Fill it up."_

_Damon reluctantly took the cup. "Do you know the spell she did?" Bonnie shook her head. "Haven't come across a spell that might give insight into the spell she casted?" Again with the head shake. Damon's lips pulled down at the corners as he lifted his wrist to his mouth. "With no idea of where to even begin to break the spell, you think you can do it in the next ten minutes?" _

"_Clearly not. Stop lollygagging and hurry the hell up so I can find the spell Dahlia did and undo it."_

"_Why would she do this to us?" Damon had a clue, but he was a bit nervous if Dahlia told Bonnie what she said to him a few nights ago, about the two of them being in love._

_Bonnie avoided his eyes. "It's a test." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. _

"_Helluva test don't you think?"_

"_Yeah," she grunted. _

_Damon filled the cup halfway and handed it to Bonnie who then ushered him to the door, pushing him out on the welcome mat. _

"_I don't know how bad things are going to get until I find a solution, but try to fight it as much as you can. Vervain yourself if you have to," Bonnie advised._

"_You know I'm no stranger to feeling…"_

"_Damon," Bonnie silenced him with a cutting look. Her fingers curled into the edge of the door. "Wait for my call or text when it's done. Okay?"_

"_Do you think you're going to be okay in the meantime? That you'll be able to concentrate?" _

_That was the thing Bonnie was most worried about. How much of her would be coherent enough to find the counter spell. She shook her head. "I've been through worst, haven't I? I'll get through this, too."_

_Damon gnawed the inside of his cheek. Too often in the past he stepped out of the way to let Bonnie do her thing, save the day with one arm tied behind her back. He didn't want to abandon her; however, if he were to believe what Dahlia had done, and yes slowly the situation was becoming real to him, being around Bonnie could lead to nuclear disaster. Of the naked kind. He wanted to take the risk anyway, because it shouldn't be on her to right this wrong when it involved them both. _

_Bonnie could read his thoughts or the gist of them. "I know you want to help, but I'm afraid of what'll happen if we're around each other when it hits. Just…just go, Damon. _Please._"_

_The dark-haired vampire hesitated and when he spoke, his voice was raspy, "Call me if anything goes wrong."_

"_All right."_

_Damon took a step then another until he reached his car. His eyes never left Bonnie who offered a tremulous smile before slipping into the house and closing the door._

_Which opened a second later. _

_Bonnie popped her head through the opening, "Matt, your mom's done something to him. Can you check to make sure he's all right?"_

_Damon ignored the flare of disappointment that Bonnie had changed her mind about him staying, and tried to staunch his irritation at being sent on an errand to check on the most irrelevant person he could think of. He nodded curtly and fell behind the wheel._

_A quarter of a mile from Bonnie's, Damon made a phone call. _

"_Enzo, you rotten bastard, I thought I told you to watch Lily…" _

Running felt pointless.

You see, it all began with an itch, a tingle at the base of his spine that slowly inched to his cerebellum. From there, it took root fanning into the gray matter of his brain like a network of streams that eventually flowed into a river, reprogramming his amygdala, or rather flooding it with prurient nannites. As a result, Damon cranked up the death metal that he hated hoping the grittiness of the singer's snarling voice would discourage him from thinking about…burying himself in the softest of pouches.

Damon gripped the wheel tighter wishing his Camaro was manual and not automatic so he could throttle into a higher gear. He had to settle with pressing his foot harder on the gas.

_Bonnie drove this car to Nova Scotia and back. She handled the wheel. This seat cushioned her squeezable ass. The wind blew her hair off her delicate little neck,_ he daydreamed, moistening his lips with a tongue that wanted to lick her salty skin.

His trousers grew tighter.

"Fuck, Salvatore," he almost slapped himself in the head.

He was about a mile away from the lake house. With the top down despite the temperate weather and the downcast sky, the cold air felt good. Too bad it did shit all to lessen the blood flow to his dick. Jaw clenched tightly, Damon veered off the main road to a dirt one and thirty seconds later slammed on the brakes and cut the engine.

Damon squinted at Alaric's truck parked outside of the lake house. He wondered what he was doing here. It was an interesting walk from his car to the front door, his swollen member doing everything in its power to make its presence known.

He received another surprise once he made it inside. Damon bit back a groan.

Alaric wasn't alone. His fiancée was with him. Damon had seen neither of them since the masquerade ball, which led him to wonder what fuckery they were about to unleash. Elena, playing hostess, looked up once he stepped through the door. She had been in the process of giving Jo a chilled glass of water. Through facial cues, he asked where she stashed Stefan, and she nodded discreetly with her chin that he was upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

"Alaric…Jo what brings you two by?"

"We need to talk to you about something," the former replied.

"Made a decision on who's gonna be godfather?" Damon winked.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "It's a bit more important than that."

Moving stiffly, wishing he could bat his hardening cock aside, Damon tried to appear normal. But his jeans chafed him, made him obtusely aware of his predicament and that he could do nothing about it. Not for a while at least. He made it to the couch and with a sigh of relief sat down.

"What's up?"

"Kai," Jo answered after taking a sip of her water and placing it on the coffee table. "I've been having dreams about him. Nightmares I should say."

Another piercing sensation gutted Damon that luckily had nothing to do with arousal, and everything to do with his disgust with that asshole. He was tired of Kai, _sick_ of Kai. If it hadn't been for him Bonnie wouldn't have taken it upon herself to seek out a witch who could finally mentor her, and what was currently happening to him wouldn't be occurring. _Everything_ boiled down to Kai. He wasn't fucking here and he was still causing problems, Damon seethed.

"So now what?" he inadvertently snapped. "You expect me to help clean up a mess your coven should have taken care of 20 years ago."

"Hey," Alaric retorted.

"Damon," Elena reproached.

The vampire in question stared at each person in the room, unfazed by their anger.

"You should know you had a starring role in my nightmares," Jo enlightened. "I wasn't the only one lying in a pool of their own blood, gutted and presumably dead."

"So you're dreaming about Kai killing you and myself? I can't exactly say that's original. What are you proposing exactly?" Damon crossed his legs and winced.

"There might be away to either seal off the prison world or destroy it without anyone having to physically go there to do it. The downside, it would take _a lot _of power, but I've…I've contacted my dad. He and the rest of our coven are willing to try. I just need one thing…the ascendant."

"Naturally," Damon jibed. "Hate to bust your bubble but I don't have it."

"Well who does?" Alaric questioned.

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"For insurance purposes," Damon tapped his feet on the floor, cleared his throat. He was beginning to feel like a human with too much caffeine in their system.

Jo calculated the obvious, "Bonnie has it, doesn't she?" Her inquiry was met with silence. "It makes sense. She's one of two people able to use it. Of course she'd want to have the key holding her tormentor captive in her possession."

"If she does have it," Alaric added carefully, "it took a Bennett to create the 1903 and 1994 prison worlds it very well may take a Bennett to destroy them."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Damon knew that had been coming. "So predictable," he muttered with a tired laugh. His dick throbbed and he grunted against the sensation. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his hairline. "After what I've seen I _know_ magic can be overridden by someone not in the lineage of the witch who cast the original spell," he countered. "She's been through enough."

"We know that," Alaric said.

Damon abruptly sat on the edge of the couch, scowling so fiercely his drinking pal and baby mama gulped nervously. "You don't know _shit _about what that cunt put her through, and even if you did know that wouldn't stop you from dragging her into something that could go south because it always does!"

Alaric's smile was far from friendly, "Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black."

"Fuck you."

Fuck…fucking…fucking Bonnie, Damon jabbed a fang into his tongue hoping the brief flare of pain would knock his screws back into place.

"I know what Kai's capable of," Jo interjected. "The last thing I want to do is face him or throw Bonnie into the line of fire. But getting rid of him for good, she'd be essential. If she's willing. No one is going to force her to do something she doesn't want to do."

And that was the thing about Bonnie. She was always willing to fight.

Damon's mind wandered. In live Technicolor he was seeing 1994 Bonnie in daisy duke shorts, braless, visible nipples that poked out her shirts. His dropped his hand to his crotch and lightly massaged. His chest rose and fell higher and faster.

A hand shook his shoulder snapping him out of it. Elena, brow puckered with disgust. "Are you seriously touching yourself right now?" she asked low enough for his vampire ears to hear.

Instead of answering, Damon sat forward on the couch and gripped his pounding head before jumping to his feet. The room swam, and the blood he consumed for breakfast threatened to come back up. He needed space to move. This house was too small, too confined, too isolated. It made his flesh itch like ants were crawling all over him. Damon saw the peculiar expressions on the soon-to-be Saltzman's faces and turned away from them. Although, he did peek at Jo wondering if she might know of a way to break Dahlia's spell. For five seconds he had forgotten about it, but now it was all he could think about. That and the fact Bonnie wasn't here. He needed to see her, touch her—fuck _taste_ her!

Damon made a mad dash to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face. He should call her. See how she was doing. He should be there with her, he nodded absently to himself. Then hissed as his cock stiffened even more at the thought of sneaking off to be with Bonnie.

"Damon, what is going on with you?"

His head whipped to Elena looming in the doorway. He roamed her from head to toe. She had the right parts. He could take her upstairs, close his eyes and imagine…no. He couldn't do that. He wondered if he should tell Elena what Dahlia had done. No, he wouldn't utter a peep. She would just twist it around into something about her.

So what was he to do? Damon had no idea. He just knew that the longer he was away from Bonnie the more he thought about her, craved her, burned for her. He constantly reminded himself it was the spell, that those feelings weren't his, but it felt real, this yearning. It wouldn't go away. His body might be able and willing to 'perform' with anyone else, but honestly generic substitutes wouldn't do.

"I just…have a lot on my mind. It's nothing," Damon declared through gritted teeth and returned to the living room, determined to ignore the effects of the spell. "There's a hitch," Damon announced. "My mother's 'family' those witchpires…"

"Heretics," Jo corrected.

"They're still there. If we kill them or trap them with no possible way of ever getting out…mommy dearest is a ripper. We won't be getting rid of a potential problem but creating a whole new one. I've killed family before, but…" he wasn't sure he could kill his mother if it came down to it.

"Maybe it won't come down to that," Elena went for optimism. "Maybe if we explained the situation, she might understand."

"Let's not be naïve about this," Damon pulled at the collar of his shirt. His throat felt like it was closing. "S-she's been with those people far longer than she's been a mother to me or Stefan. She could really give a fuck about us. She's said as much."

"Maybe it's possible to transfer them to the 1994 prison world."

"What is this Star Trek? You essentially want to beam them from one location to another?" Damon laughed.

"It's not like we haven't done it before," Elena reminded. "Bringing people back from the other side; you, Bonnie, and your mom coming back from prison worlds. Putting Lily's family somewhere else wouldn't be that much different."

Damon conceded the point and, unaware of his actions had pulled out his phone and started thumbing through his photo gallery. He stopped on a picture of him and Bonnie at the masquerade ball. Just seeing her face was a minor antidote to the frenzy that was ratcheting up his anxiety. Separation anxiety.

"Damon?"

"What?" he paced back and forth muttering to himself. He sat down on the couch but half a second later shot to his feet to resume pacing. The engaged couple and Elena observed his strange and jittery movements, the latter unsure of what to make of it.

A crease formed between Jo's dark brows, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped again, shut off his phone, and forced himself to get back into the game. "What were you saying?"

For two hours ideas were traded but the preoccupied vamp heard maybe a quarter of what had been said. He left Elena to show Jo and Alaric out once the pregnant one complained of hunger and there was nothing but water and blood in the refrigerator.

His shirt was soaked with sweat. He felt like he was going through withdrawals. In the shower, Damon hoped to find some relief. Warm water sluiced down his corded muscles, saturated the patch of hair his erection jutted from. He made a fist, unfurled it, made another desperately wanting to rub himself off, but that would do nothing.

Supple breasts pressed into his back without warning and he was turned around. Damon closed his eyes as a mouth swallowed his erection whole. His fingers laced themselves into long brown hair. The suction was perfect, rhythm—superb. A dark and rumbling groan came out when he felt the head of his cock tickle the back of a throat. He was almost there. Almost reaching his zenith, toes curling against the slick porcelain. The back of his skull thumped against the tile.

His member was deep throated again.

"Oh god…oh…Bonnie."

"Bonnie!" Elena cried indignantly.

His eyes popped open. Yep, he knew he fucked up.

* * *

The hour after her grace period ended wasn't so bad. It was more or less the equivalent of premenstrual horniness Bonnie typically staved off with a good piece of chocolate. With that idea in mind, she abandoned her search for a counter spell and bounded to the kitchen on the hunt for milk chocolate goodness.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she whispered piously like a prayer, getting more and more frustrated and desperate with each bare cupboard. There wasn't a Hershey's Kiss, bar, Reece's Cup, or Junior Mint to be found leaving no choice but to upgrade the threat of combustion to a level three.

Ice cubes would have to serve as a poor substitute. Removing a handful of oblong cubes from the freezer, Bonnie popped one in her mouth and crushed it to pieces with her molars. The crunch was good, almost hypnotic in a sense, and the frostiness of the ice—well it didn't do shit for cooling her libido.

It did, however, distract her. One would think since vampires were dead they would feel like a corpse. Cold flesh that didn't give, emitted no kind of warmth. Bonnie discovered that wasn't necessarily true. Absently she rubbed an ice cube along her neck tumbling into a fantasy or perhaps a memory. Yes, how did she forget that day?

It had been forty days of consistently sunny weather apart from that special time of the day where the eclipse made itself known. She had been in the kitchen looking for snacks when the back door flew open and Damon waltzed inside drenched from head to toe. Bonnie had peeked out the window wondering if it had rained. A spark of happiness hit her that something finally changed. But no. She had been greeted with nothing but a clear blue sky and a fat sun.

She stared at him curiously, brow raised.

"Me and the water hose got into a fight…I lost," Damon explained.

"Oh, I thought it finally rained."

He snorted and moved to the refrigerator. "You know, I usually hate the rain, but I'm tired of the sun so I took the hose," he removed a can of beer from the fridge, popped the top, inhaled about half of it, licked foam from his lips, "and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Creative," Bonnie had deadpanned though she was partially sidetracked by the way Damon's soaked shirt molded to his chest and arms.

She had turned her back to him which she normally tried not to do. For the most part they got along, but there were plenty more days they were so sick and aggravated at the sight of one another things got…dicey. Damon, bolstered by the fact she had no powers and couldn't deliver her usual aneurysms or blow him to kingdom come used that to his advantage and often.

But that day in the kitchen he came up behind her, plucked her clear off her feet, wetting her in the process.

"What the hell are you doing?" she squirmed to free herself.

Damon didn't reply until he dropped Bonnie on her feet at the bottom of the stairs. "Go find a bathing suit or something. I want to head to the pool and as much as your company sucks, it's still company."

Bonnie had folded her arms, ignoring the way his nipples poked through his shirt, glared, "What if I don't feel like swimming?"

"Then we have a wet t-shirt contest. I'm in the lead if you couldn't tell and if you want to win the coveted title…" his grin was filthy.

Nevertheless, after trading ten minutes worth of insults, Bonnie had donned a swimsuit, but it was what happened at the community pool where she was reminded that vampires could be warm, soft even.

Sunscreen, Damon's hands massaged it into her shoulders, her back, legs, and feet. Her senses she hadn't realized had been closed, were opened.

But what if she had rolled over and let him take care of her front? He hadn't touched her butt thanks to the threat she issued that she'd take his head off if he touched her ass. But what if his big hands had caressed her there…between her legs, squeezed and kneaded her tits, flicked and thumbed her nipples?

What if she had gripped him by the back of the neck, brought him down, and his mouth latched on to her sensitive tip? What if his curious fingers inched their way down her belly, traced her navel before sinking under the band of her bikini bottoms, circled her clit with just the right amount of pressure. What if he replaced his fingers with his mouth, and she watched him as he sucked her slick cleft between his little vampire lips, tongued the hood before planting an open-mouth kiss on her pussy.

The grandfather clock chimed _loudly_.

Bonnie's eyes jolted open and she sprung upright. She blinked. How the hell did she get on the couch? Looking down at herself she squeaked as her brows nearly lifted off her forehead.

One breast was completely exposed, nipple erect, whereas her right hand was trapped in her panties.

Yanking her hand free and stuffing her boob back into her sports bra, Bonnie frowned at herself. Rising from the couch, the blood whooshed from her core up to her head so fast the room swam.

Uncoordinated, Bonnie tripped over a few of the grimoires she had sprawled across the floor. She looked down and shifted her head to a better angle and reached for the book her big toe had rammed into. Looking carefully, Bonnie realized two pages were stuck together. So using the tip of her thumbnail, she slid it between an air bubble between the seams of the pages and very carefully wiggled her nail until she was able to gently pull the sealed pages apart.

"Please, let this be something I can use."

It was.

A few phrases she couldn't make out, Bonnie quickly picked up her phone, opened an app that helped with 'witchy' translations and typed them in. She smiled broadly right before a sharp, breath-stealing throb sacked her between the legs strong enough to almost bring her to her knees. Bonnie cried out, figuring the slightest amount of friction on her overly sensitized clit would scramble her brains.

Bonnie's lips pulled back from her teeth. "I hate you so much, Dahlia."

The trembling witch found herself taking yet another shower. Forehead pressed against the cold tile, Bonnie wondered would it be such a bad thing if she and Damon just got whatever was in their system, out? Wasn't all roads gonna lead to that inevitable moment where the frenemy act got old, played out, ran its course? Were they ever going to realize they didn't fit the platonic mold anymore?

In between the self-interrogation, Bonnie went over the spell and went over it again.

Wasn't he going to kiss her at the movies? Hadn't he thought about it? Didn't she want him to? Didn't they deserve to know what the other tasted like? Hadn't they earned it after dying together and sparking something of a friendship? She sent him back.

HE. OWED. HER!

This is Dahlia's spell, Bonnie you don't mean that.

"Yes, I do," she whimpered.

Hadn't she caught him ogling her breasts and ass? Didn't he want her?

Bonnie screamed herself raw as she flicked herself to a poignant orgasm that failed to beat back a single flame of yearning or want.

Shaking, she exited the shower, moved like a zombie as she dressed. Repeated the spell. Her legs were barely functional. If she kept going like this her mind would be in ribbons in another hour or two.

"You can do this, Bon," she coached while donning a light jacket. Bonnie stuffed her feet into her 1994 Doc Martens, and grabbed her keys.

The door flew open.

Damon was back.

* * *

He fixed his dark gaze on the woman, the specimen, the sylph-like creation. He didn't care about rules or regulations, right from wrong ceased to have meaning. There was only pulse and truth. The pulse in his blood triggered each time he thought about her these last few hours. The truth of his arrival saying he wasn't strong enough to fight the spell. Damon ground his molars on top of one another.

His boots carried him across the cherry wood floor to Bonnie where he braced her against the wall.

Her tongue had grown thick with saliva, "W-what are you doing here?" Every square inch of her lit up like a Christmas tree. "You shouldn't be here." She meant to push him away but drew him closer.

"Why don't you put me where I'm supposed to be then," Damon flattened himself against her so there'd be no mistaking what he meant.

Both of their breaths hitched and it was taking every shred of willpower they possessed not to tear into each other.

Bonnie touched his arm and his skin puckered. Having her close, close enough to inhale the sweet scent of her perfume, and female arousal made Damon's senses go haywire. Her heat touched and singed, and her lips were in striking distance. Every part of him hardened into concrete.

"I'm giving you a five second head start," Damon was barely articulate.

"That's not enough time."

"That's all I can give you. Try, please, Bonnie, try to run from me because if I catch you that pussy is mine."

Her womb clenched. Why did he need to catch her when he already had her, and could do what he wanted with her? No, no, no. She shook those wanton thoughts aside.

Damon loosened his hold. "Go."

* * *

There was the literal running for your life and the figurative kind. More often than not she had done the figurative kind where her heart undoubtedly gave her ribs a beating as she stood in the center of a nebula of borrowed or amplified power, stripping away layers of her adversary to get to their creamy, defenseless middle. Doing magic did not equate to being mobile, of having to move, run, or jump or using her fist to pound someone into dirt. It meant staying still, being used as a conduit to unleash energies that could burn, choke, rupture, twist and main bones and organs.

Her lower jaw trembled from the vibration of running faster than she had in months. Her muscles pulled and burned and she couldn't absorb enough oxygen, because her breaths were too short. Sweat poured from her brow and stung her eyes. She was being chased or was she doing the chasing? Twigs snapped beneath her boots, foliage was slapped aside as she hustled deeper into the forest.

Bonnie hoisted herself over a fallen tree and landed in a shallow pool of muddy water. Mud. Maybe that might mask her scent yet she doubted it. Hunters were not so easily fooled by amateur tricks. She sprinted off, looking behind her every so often.

He wasn't behind her.

Damon was in front of her.

Bonnie gasped and slid to a graceless stop. Her feet went in opposite directions, and she went down. One minute shock registered on her face and the next her eyes were clouded with lust.

"Witchy," Damon chastised, attempting to stay where he was, but ultimately prowled forward with his gaze glued to her bent legs and splayed thighs. "Stay just like that."

"Damon," she warned though her reprimand was too husky.

"It hurts."

"It does."

His jaw worked like he wanted to say something. He couldn't tell Bonnie how hard his cock was. So rock solid Damon was a little afraid it might actually be a fossil.

Falling to his knees, Damon crawled, "Break the spell," he pled with no less than a whimper.

"I'm not strong enough," Bonnie awkwardly scuttled backwards wrestling with her latent self that desired to close the distance between them.

"Yes you are," Damon contested, "You survived me, Klaus, the end of the other side, Kai. You conquered us, baby. You can do this."

He called me baby, Bonnie melted and her heart swelled. Her clit hardened to the point she brutally gouged her lower lip with her teeth. Her panties were an ocean and that wild, aromatic fragrance smacked Damon head on nearly knocking him sideways. He was closer to her now. If he extended a hand he could touch her, and both wanted nothing more than to finally have full on skin-to-skin contact.

She was an old house slowly making its decline into the earth as Bonnie rested an elbow on the ground. Her legs spread a little further in invitation for Damon to make himself right at home. He moved inward like a tide, one knee sinking between Bonnie's, his masculine body shrouding her like the moon eclipsing the sun. Damon rubbed his cheek alongside hers. The zing of contact made their nipples pebble.

"Damon," her throat was raw, ragged with need so potent any minute Bonnie was positive she'd sprout tears. "Damon, we can't do this."

He was sniffing her now, dragging the tip of his nose along her hairline.

Bonnie could barely think straight. But she managed to say, "Dahlia is making us want to do this."

Dahlia was a certified genius as far as Damon was concerned. He pressed a deep kiss right beneath the corner of her jaw, opened his mouth and gave her throat a long, velvety lick.

Bonnie's eyes rolled in ecstasy. She had to dig deep in her reserves to find a thimble's worth of control. "Think about your parents fucking."

And just like that the thrill had been cooled long enough that Damon threw himself off of Bonnie and into a tree. "Run," he said gruffly.

Bonnie clamored to her feet. Witch and vampire held each other suspended before running in opposite directions.

Birds from up high saw them careening toward each other less than a minute later. They were a tangle of limbs as they landed on the ground.

Her fingernails clawed at the dirt and then they were clawing at silky hair sprouting from the scalp of an attractive head. It was the spell that wrapped its arms around her waist hauling her closer, making her feel every knotted muscle. It was ancient Latin that fluttered along her rounded jawline and down the column of her neck tasting her saltiness. It was _incendia_ responsible for ripping her shirt in half and _phastmos_ that dragged her hips over a hard ridge cloaked behind a zipper and dark blue denim. It was _motus_ that frantically worked to unbutton and unzip her jeans and Damon's. _Legato_ was the reason she lifted her hips, and _ostinato_ why she wormed her hands into Damon's pants pushing them down his ass looking for that almighty _crescendo._ He licked her ear. Bonnie arched against him, wanting more contacting, needing it like protein.

"I can't stop," she heard him say over and over again.

She knew how to make it stop.

It was perhaps at that moment Bonnie realized how much she loved Damon. Loved him that it hurt in good and bad ways that would have some swearing off love for a very long time, or being so careful with it, you forgot how to enjoy it.

She cupped his cheeks wishing she could kiss him and not have it be a betrayal of a friendship that was more of an empty amniotic sac than something tangible. Her fingers brushed his hair off his forehead just for it to fall right back into place. Resigned, she had to do this.

With one enchantment, she sent Damon flying a few feet away who landed roughly on the ground, skull cracking against a rock. "Shit," he whined.

Bonnie, now standing, began the spell that would let her visibly _see_ magic. Since becoming a full-fledged witch she'd only felt magic on its superficial surface. She hadn't been able to suss out its complexities through her five physical senses without the aid of a spell. So she braced herself for the unknown.

The incantation had a bite; a searing bite Bonnie worried would make her blind. In seconds the scorching heat of the spell cooled like the tip of hot iron being plunged in cold water. At first everything was distorted like a 3D Picasso original but only until Bonnie figured out what she was actually seeing. Currents: electric, thermal, and organic crisscrossed in a grid formation. And those currents were connected to everything. The tiny insects to the ground, the ground to the trees, the trees to the air, every living lifeform was interconnected. Some connections were brighter than others suggesting to Bonnie there was a more direct line like in a lineage. The beauty of it caused a here and gone smile.

Bonnie carefully studied Damon then herself. She shared connections with nature. Damon, he was connected as well, but the currents around him were dimmer. But there was something more. A current that ran counter to their biological ones. Narrowing her gaze the picture cleared. That mysterious current was microscopic flowers and wines and not any ordinary flower but dahlias.

"I see you," she mouthed and spoke another spell, one she hoped would unravel Dahlia's handiwork, like cutting a rope.

Nothing happened.

Damon hissed, "I felt that."

"Sorry," Bonnie shrugged sheepishly. She racked her brain for another outlet.

Her anchor.

The sun.

It was instantaneous the way she felt her connection to that burning ball of hydrogen that for a second Bonnie clammed up. Light hit from every conceivable direction, a blinding surprisingly cool light—at first. Reactively, she and Damon threw an arm across their faces to block the brilliancy of it, but it simply was too much.

"What the hell is going on?" Damon roared but the volume to his voice was overshadowed by the white noise of the light. "Bonnie!" he couldn't see her. Panicked, Damon yelled again, "BONNIE! ANSWER ME!"

She was unfortunately paralyzed, horror-stricken expression frozen in place as her mind fought to retain its calm.

"_Control."_

Bonnie gasped.

"_Focus."_

They stood in its nebula and it felt like their last night together as two ghosts facing the unknown, anchored together by their interlaced fingers, staring aimlessly at an intimidating blue-white light, the wind howling, subtly pushing them closer together, closer to whatever awaited or didn't await once the other side was consumed. Like that night they stared at one another. If she messed this up they could die. If she got it right, they'd live. There was a problem.

Bonnie didn't know how to control this power that funneled through her and was beginning to shine through her pores, overtake her. She stretched out a hand that glowed, if she touched him…? Already curls of smoke rose from Damon's skin. He cursed. A trail of blood dripped from his nose. The vessels in his eyes burst.

"Arrgggh," he screamed.

"I don't know what to do," she thought but had actually said out loud.

"Only use what you need," Bonnie heard a voice say. That voice wasn't Damon's. "You've always used too much believing it took every last drop, but it never needed much. Let nature handle its part. It's bigger than you, Bonnie, and it always will be. You are a composer, not the orchestra. It has to follow your lead, but lead it carefully, guide it, and let it go."

She saw a ripple of movement, like heat waves that made the trees sway. Who was speaking to her? Grams? No, she'd recognize her voice anywhere. Dahlia? The spirits who turned their back on her a long damn time ago? Her own conscience? Something higher?

No matter who or what said it, Bonnie listened.

If she tapped into it, miscalculated by a single degree she could incinerate the entire earth. The enormity of it made swallowing difficult. So she needed to focus on a smaller scale on how to wield that much power without killing herself and everything around her.

Bonnie imagined herself as a surgeon taking up her scalpel. All she needed to do was make an incision. Don't go too deep. Don't make the cut too long. Careful. Imagine operating on a preemie. Delicate now, steady. Sweat broke out on Bonnie's forehead.

"_Mundet."_

Bonnie couldn't describe what happened. Maybe she became lightning or an atomic bomb, she didn't know. If anyone had been around, they might say the area was hit with so much light and heat it would cause automatic blindness and five degree burns. People living within five miles of the woods lost power. Traffic lights malfunctioned, setting off a domino effect of near misses and rear end collisions. Railroad crossing arms dropped unexpectedly.

Even Dahlia, tucked away in her hideout, felt the ripple of dominating power that caused her to lose her balance and fall to the floor. For the first time in centuries the smile she wore was genuine. "Atta girl."

She and Damon were flung away like opposing magnetic forces. They were objects falling through the stratosphere that crashed without parachutes.

When Damon came to he was…shit he didn't know. Groaning, he examined himself. His appeared to be all right for the most part. There were patches of pink skin from where he had started to burn. Apart from his clothes being in shambles, his limbs were intact. Frantically he searched for Bonnie and couldn't find her anywhere, but he had a trail of burned and/or smoky trees to follow that led him to the lake where teenagers hosted summer parties.

He found her combat boot sticking out of the rocky sand. Picking it up, scouting the area, he shouted, "BONNIE!"

Damon heard a splash. A head and small shoulder broke through the surface and bopped some forty yards away from the shore. He took off running and stumbled to an unattractive stop when every ounce of water in the lake exploded up as if an enormous giant was rising from a deep slumber. The sight had Damon gaping like an idiot.

A silhouette emerged growing bigger as it strolled beneath the hovering body of water. Damon's eyes were so wide open they were beginning to hurt and sting, and in the next second even as he told himself to look away he just couldn't.

Sixty-two inches of sopping wet and perfectly nude Bennett witch planted her feet on grainy sand.

"Bon?"

She glanced over her shoulder, and like a mother telling her unruly children to set down, she made a motion with her hand.

Gallons of water plunged violently back to the earth, nearly overtaking the shore, rushing up to Bonnie's knees before receding back to settle. The cacophony of it was like standing in the center of a bustling industrial factory.

"Bon?"

Her throat was too sore to speak. Bonnie blinked a couple of times and looked at Damon.

Twin suns where Bonnie's eyes were supposed to be, stared intently at him.

"How…?"

His cock stirred and he thought they were still under the spell but his arousal quickly changed to concern when Bonnie's knees wobbled and she dropped.

Damon was there in an instant wrapping Bonnie in his arms, partially cradling her on his lap. She was shivering and he thought she might be cold but touching her bare skin, she was too warm. Feverish almost.

Bonnie curled her fingers into his shirt, buried her nose in his chest, and after a moment met his curious and terrified gaze. "That was…awesome," she whispered softly and smiled.

**A/N: I just celebrated a birthday so you know what would make awesome presents? That's right, you guessed it, reviews! Seriously, thank you for reading. It was an interesting day Bamon had and they're gonna have to talk about it. I wonder what's coming next. XOXO. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Merci beaucoup to everyone who left me a review for last chapter. XOXO.**

* * *

Getting caught in the rain happened to people in movies. Well, she supposed it happened to people in real life too especially if there was no prior warning of a shower. The sky opened up and you're drenched, finding yourself dashing for cover, for a place to escape the torrent happening above your head. But it's too late. The damage had already been done. You're soaked, cold, waterlogged. The only things left to do were curse and laugh and search for a towel.

_They were sieged with blissful awkwardness unsure of what to say or where to look, Damon more so than Bonnie. She had pushed out of his arms, stood to her feet and stared at the gray skies which faded to navy, but a rebellious ray of sunlight lashed through the clouds._

"_Bonnie? We need to go."_

"_I know."_

_Damon, too, pushed to his feet, staggered a bit as he shrugged off his leather jacket and, with averted eyes draped it across Bonnie's tiny shoulders. _

"_I can…I can hear it, Damon," she said, her voice whisper thin. _

"_Hear what?"_

"_Everything. How do you make it stop?"_

"_Find one sound and put all your focus on it."_

_There was too much to choose from. The birds chirping, the gurgling of the lake as it continued to settle, the grains of sand shifting as the wind pushed the tiny pebbles into new formations, the knocking of tree branches, the scuttle of insects. It was too much. Bonnie winced and slapped her hands over her ears. She bent forward a little, teeth grinding. She knew Damon was asking her what was wrong but she could barely hear him. _

_Not until he stood in front of her, hands framing her wet cheeks. He tilted her head up to look at him. _

"_What?"_

"…_listen to…m…vo…ice…"_

"_I can't…"_

_He shook her a little, "LISTEN TO MY VOICE!"_

"_All right, you don't have to yell. Wait."_

_Those noises she hadn't been able to hear thirty minutes ago were quiet now. Slowly Bonnie smiled and her grin was contagious. _

_A crack of thunder and lightning made vampire and witch jump. _

_Eyes focused on the rapidly darkening sky, Damon reiterated, "We need to go."_

Somehow they ended up at the boardinghouse soaked to the gills.

Her eyes couldn't help but covertly look around. Lily had yet to forfeit her quest to bring her family from the Victorian era to the 21st century. Being ambushed by Damon's mama didn't account for why she suddenly felt so nervous or that she was doing something wrong. Bonnie tried to shake it off as she followed behind Damon.

The front door opening suddenly made it difficult to swallow. Matters weren't helped much by his broad back, nor the wet shirt stuck to it that showed, in fine detail, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing.

Damon held the door open hardly leaving much room for Bonnie to skirt by without some part of them touching. But a clap of lightning and thunder hustled her inside, her rear end almost coming into contact with his crotch as she brushed by him.

The foyer seemed smaller than usual with the two of them standing there. Damon kicked off his shoes, staring at her the whole while. The air felt steamy and muggy, and each time they exhaled the temperature went up higher. She licked her lips. He watched. Her cheeks reddened and she forced herself to take in the surroundings she was more than acquainted with. The paneled walls, the clean and shiny hard wood floors covered here and there with Persian and Aubusson rugs, and the air, it smelled surprisingly like banana bread.

That relaxed her, somewhat.

"Let me get you something to change into," he lightly touched the small of her back as he ushered her deeper into the living room. "You can shower if you want."

His touch singed and seemed to have a direct line to her air supply because it suddenly became hard to breathe. A shower was right up her alley but Bonnie was uncertain she could get herself to move upstairs.

Damon vanished, tight jeans nearly falling off his ass showing he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Cheeks blotted and screaming, Bonnie touched her face. She was shocked there was no resounding hiss the moment her cold fingers made contact with her superheated skin.

Thundering feet down the stairs kicked started her heart, which hadn't calmed down in who knew how long. In her head, Bonnie already played out the scenario. She'd accept the change of clothes, find a bathroom, freshen up, change, exit bathroom, and thank him for his hospitality. She'd decline any offers of food, drink, or waiting out the storm. She's driven in harsher weather than this and she didn't live too far, she'd be all right. She'd offer him a smile and promptly leave without looking back, or staring at him in a way that told Damon everything she was feeling. They would part as friends with no rudimentary awkwardness between them. Yes. That was the plan.

The plan hit its first snag when he returned sans shirt, hair still wet, chest still damp, pants riding _way _too low to be decent. Bonnie barely saw the towel and shirt he carried in his hands as she was using everything in her arsenal not to stare, ogle, gape like she'd never seen a muscled torso before.

Bonnie could not locate her tongue. Damon wasn't obscenely buff, nor gangly. He was chiseled fineness that matched his sculpted face.

The color of his eyes darkened as Bonnie drank her fill. She waited for his kissable lips to curl into a knowing smirk. It never came.

He half-heartedly stretched the items to her leaving Bonnie little choice but to come to him. Come closer. "Here you go."

Her feet were cement blocks. Bonnie stood a foot away and reached for the provisions, taking care to make sure their fingers didn't overlap.

She heard every breath Damon took and there was no question about him hearing hers. Their lungs were getting an aerobic workout without the actual exercise. His massive chest lifted and expanded and he moved forward, closing the gap.

Bonnie barked at her legs to move, to step away. They refused to help her out.

Half a step and his stomach would be crushed against her breasts. Her nipples hardened into painful points at the thought. His dizzying, towering height didn't intimidate her. It was actually comforting. The quivering in her stomach—familiar. The trembling of her limbs—familiar. The stiffening of her clit and pulse in her quim—familiar.

But he was the wrong damn person to make her feel this way.

Blood pounded everywhere. Head, tits, fingers, toes, pussy.

"You're fighting it," Damon astutely deduced.

"I need to go," she remained where she was.

Bolstered, he draped a hand on her hip, gripping it gently, fighting his instinct to slam her fully against him. "Tell me you're not wet."

Bonnie's eyebrows climbed higher. He was doing a bang up job of short circuiting her brain.

"Tell me you don't want my tongue in you."

His phone rang startling the both of them. Bonnie pushed at his chest and flew to the front door. But he was right behind her, trapping her between it and his body. He thrust his hips forward sinking his denim covered erection right between her ass.

"Please, don't go."

Bonnie swallowed a moan. "I _have_ to go because this is wrong. I'm…we're friends."

"We can be more."

Bonnie almost laughed hysterically. "Do you even hear what you're saying? What about Elena?"

"Bonnie…"

"No."

She cast the evil eye over her shoulder that made him gulp nervously.

"I'm not giving up," he promised and moved just enough for Bonnie to wrestle the front door open.

She paused and stared at him. He was too beautiful. Too jaded. He was her friend and he had the capacity to hurt her like no one else.

Bonnie shot out of the boardinghouse and came to an abrupt stop. There stood her mentor wearing that same black coat with that same staid expression. The rain was still failing but not a drop landed on Dahlia.

"You've done well, witchling. Today you will rest."

A horn honking spooked Bonnie and she stomped on the gas. She did it again. Let her mind drift with images from her unconscious mind while she went about on autopilot. Her brain, a layered cake, interspersed actual events with her dreams that certain parts felt more real than others, and the parts that made a far deeper impression never actually happened.

Unfair, Bonnie pouted as she drove down the familiar streets of Mystic Falls. She sighed at the sensation of heat burning through her thighs as she thought of Damon close to her, saying they could be more. This was a brand of torture she was unused to and she could either let it have its evil fun or banish it to the ether.

Despite what could have happened between she and Damon had she not broken the spell in time, a chasm had formed. Bonnie sensed Damon's estrangement even as he carried her back home since her legs refused to cooperate. He didn't say anything but his mind was spinning the same as hers.

He had dropped her right there on the welcome mat, mumbled something about her getting dry and warm before turning and leaving.

"Damon?" she called after him. He paused but didn't face her. Bonnie didn't know what she had been prepared to say to him, but she hadn't wanted him to leave. "We should talk."

His rigid shoulders slumped and he nodded mutely. "We will. Later." Damon was gone after that.

Twelve hours later and Bonnie hadn't heard from Damon nor been accosted by the doppelganger which told her everything she needed to know. Her hothead of a best friend had yet to open his trap to his girlfriend, and though Bonnie knew she had just as much responsibility to tell Elena, she felt since she wasn't the one dating her, it needed to come from Damon.

Nothing that transpired had been their fault.

But loving her best friend beyond platonically…Once you opened a door you had to deal with whatever stood on the other side. Opening it involved risks. Risk disrupted your harmony. Risk invited something in you weren't prepared to handle. Risk allowed something of value to walk out.

Dahlia's spell forced Bonnie to be honest with herself. She wanted Damon. The question remained: If he wanted her too, were they brave enough to end the one of the most significant relationships in their lives for each other?

Sadly, she didn't think it would ever happen.

Bonnie smashed her molars together and pulled into the driveway of her destination.

She switched off the AC that had been going at full blast though it wasn't hot enough for it. Anchoring her magic to the sun came with side effects. One, her body heat doubled, and as a result the windows kept fogging up. Two, her eyes had yet to return to their natural green hue. The irises had been taken over by a coppery orange tint if she had to describe them. Bonnie, worrying her bottom lip hoped it wouldn't be permanent.

Sighing, she added her weird eye color and abnormally high body temperature as two more things to talk to Dahlia about.

Cutting the engine to the car, Bonnie crossed the pavement to the front door of the residence she was visiting, knocked. About a minute later it opened.

"Bonnie? Hey."

"Hey, Matt. Mind if I come in?"

The police cadet winced feeling like his retinas were being attacked. Why was it so damn bright under an overcast sky? "Sure," he shuffled aside, holding his left arm close to his body.

Bonnie stepped into the former Lockwood mansion. A shiver went through her. She could feel the ghosts of Richard and Carol Lockwood, and almost expected the latter to waltz down the spiral staircase. Bonnie had never really talked to either of Tyler's late parents beyond an obligatory hello. An odd, fleeting sense of regret swam through her.

"How are you feeling?" she hugged Matt carefully, mindful of his injury.

He wagged his blond head once they separated and led Bonnie to one of the dens. "Being stabbed in the stomach, all things considered I've been better."

Bonnie knew that feeling. Literally.

"Hey, did you get contacts?" Matt questioned.

"No."

Matt stopped and stared intently at her eyes, and the longer he did the more self-conscious Bonnie became. "Do I want to know details?"

"Probably…in another ten years," she chortled. "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt or anything."

"Are you sure? They're…it feels like I'm looking at the sun."

Bonnie nibbled the inside of her cheek, shrugged. "They don't bother me. I just hope it isn't permanent."

They swept into the parlor. The HD television was on, a movie unfolding on the screen. One that earned Matt a speculative brow who scrambled to find the remote buried beneath papers and magazines. Bonnie bit into her lip. He had been watching _Marie Antoinette_, the Kirsten Dunst version.

"Let me turn that off," he laughed deprecatingly.

"You don't have to change it," Bonnie settled on the couch. "I haven't watched this in forever."

Matt appeared uncertain for a second but gave up the perfunctory search and retook his spot on the sofa. The two friends watched the Queen of France spend her country into bankruptcy for a few minutes.

"Can I get you anything?" Matt remembered his manners.

"No, I'm fine. I just came to check on you after the incident with Lily."

"Yeah," Matt's face darkened. "She filled my monthly quota of being assaulted by a vampire."

The hatred was unmistakable in his voice.

"She hurt you because of me," Bonnie informed gloomily.

"Nah, she hurt me because she wanted to. I heard most of her conversation when she stole my phone to call you. She wants something from you, and whatever it is, I hope you don't give it to her, Bon."

"I have no plans to, Matt," Bonnie attested stoically. If Lily kept barking up that particular tree of using intimidation tactics to get her family back, Bonnie had something up her sleeve. "You don't mind if I hang out here for a while, do you?"

Matt smiled, "No, I don't mind at all."

* * *

There was being an asshole and feeling like an asshole. Damon prided himself on being the former, but he was certainly the latter as he dropped his bum on a barstool and flagged down the bartender.

He was dodging all personal responsibility today though he couldn't afford to. Damon had a threadbare relationship to repair, a brother to turn inside out emotionally, a mother to keep tabs on. But none of that sparked any kind of fire into him to get the hell on. Mentally he was a hundred shades of screwed up. Emotionally…his stomach turned thinking about it.

He could feel embarrassed for his actions, for some of the utterances he made. Explicit declarations typically egged on by alcohol. Yet Damon resisted pummeling himself as he heard the echo of his promise, "…if I catch you that pussy is mine."

Had he really said that? His cheeks flushed.

"That kind of day, eh?" the bartender assumed as he gave Damon a once over, taking in his surly features, and slumped shoulders.

"Just give me my usual," Damon snapped.

The bartender harrumphed but dug under the bar for three rock glasses and an entire bottle of Elijah Craig. He placed the items in front of the despondent vampire who barely allowed the man to draw his hands back before snatching the bottle and twisting off the cap. In his peripheral he saw the barkeep hovering and chose to ignore him.

Damon filled up all three glasses and slammed the bottle on the bar. If only he could resurrect the Damon who fed off booty calls to clear his mind. Drinking hard liquor would have to do the trick. Naturally, Damon doubted anything would really help, but he wouldn't mind trying.

He sighed, pushing the first glass back and forth, staring at the honey colored alcohol almost wishing an answer to his problems would fall out of the sky and land right into his lap. He was tired of walking around with this gaping hole in his chest that sprung up because of yesterday's events.

Why won't it just go the fuck away already? He growled mentally and could feel the area beneath his eyes grow hot. If he didn't get a handle on himself he'd vamp out right here, and turn this place into a slaughter house. Bonnie would _love_ that.

Shit, he was thinking about her again though admittedly he hadn't stopped. Why didn't he say anything to her before leaving last night? Why did he leave right after seeing her home knowing they had a mountain load to talk to about? The answer was simple and did nothing for his reputation. He was scared and unprepared to go there.

"If you want my advice…" the bartender's voice split into Damon's musings. "If a woman has you drinking in the middle of the day it may be time to let her go."

Damon had the glass poised to kiss his lips, but he paused and stared at the bartender. "Who the hell said anything about a woman? I could be having an overall shitty kind of day. Or week."

The bartender, who the locals called Logan because they believed he bore some strange resemblance Hugh Jackman, sized Damon up.

"You come in here every single day, man. Usually you just look bored. Some days pissed off with the whole world. Today…like your old lady left you for another man, maybe even a woman. I've never seen you look like you rather take up lodgings in a sewer until today."

Damon was astounded at the bastard's audacity, but then he chuckled darkly, raised his glass, and took his shot to the head.

Logan leaned his elbows on the bar surface standing a good distance away from Damon so he wouldn't be directly in his face. The crowd was thin at this hour. Things wouldn't start to pick up until after three when the high school crowd rolled in. Therefore, Damon was his only customer at the moment, and he had been starved for conversation.

"So what did you do to piss her off?"

Damon snorted and shook his head, disbelieving this was what his life had come to. When a bartender of a stupid backwoods town like Mystic Falls wanted to gab and help him reach some kind of revelation about the utter humiliation that was his existence. That was a sure sign it was time to move. Especially if said bartender could so easily judge his moods. But maybe he could benefit from the perspective of someone who didn't know him as long as Stefan had, nor shared any kind of history with him.

Damon gave Logan his full attention. "Believe it or not, I'm not the one at fault. My…" he couldn't tell the barkeep he'd been spelled to want to fuck his best friend. His mind raced with clever edits, and he went with, "Someone I don't like decided to fuck with me and my best friend and things could have ended in disaster. They didn't. I'm just…processing."

Logan nodded, "And your bestie?"

Damon winced, "See that's the thing. I haven't talked to her about it. I'm going to, I am," he rushed to add. "I don't know…"

"Where you need to start. Was she hurt?"

"I don't know."

"All you can do is check on her, man. No one wants to feel alone after they've been through some shit."

"Yeah," Damon muttered absently, picking at the label on the bottle. "But what if…" he looked at Logan, "what if what happened to us changed everything between us? What if…we can't go back to the way things used to be?"

"Nothing stays the same forever. Either you remain stagnant or you evolve. But you gotta ask yourself: would it suck if things changed? Or would things be better if they don't?"

A couple happened to stroll up to the bar instantly capturing Logan's attention. He prowled over to serve them. Damon didn't care. He had done enough sharing and soul-searching for the day.

Finishing off the rest of his shots, he dropped the appropriate amount of money on the bar and added ten bucks for the micro therapy session. Climbing off the stool, Damon wasn't terribly surprised to run into Dahlia.

He gave her a mocking bow, "Madam Life Ruiner, how are you this fine afternoon?"

"Better than you from the looks of things."

Damon almost retorted if she'd looked in a mirror in the last thousand years but knew that wouldn't be smart nor go over well.

Instead, he acted rashly by hustling Dahlia to a dark corner knowing full well he was pushing his luck by manhandling her. The deadly glint in her abnormally tawny eyes served noticed she wouldn't tolerate him touching her again. She tugged her arm free, cocked her head and glared at him with cool intent.

"That was a messed up thing you did to us yesterday," Damon sneered. "But it still makes me question what are you're _really_ after_._ And spare me shit about helping Bonnie reach her potential. No one has come into her life in the last four years that ever had her best interest in mind."

Dahlia arched a superior brow. "I'm assuming this is coming from a place of your own guilt. We've already had this conversation once before, vampire and I am not the sort to repeat myself. I know everything your paramour has been through."

The tendons in Damon's neck protruded as he fought to keep his voice down and his temper in check. "She's not my fucking paramour."

Dahlia's smile was cold.

"You had her anchor her magic to the sun?" Damon accused. "The fucking sun? That could have killed her. Or she could have killed us trying to break your stupid ass spell. You're playing games with our lives and it needs to _stop_."

"Well, since you're standing before me berating me on things you know nothing about it would seem your fears are unfounded." The old witch paused. "I was wrong about something though."

"A first, I'm assuming."

"I possess enough scruples to admit when I've misjudged. I thought you to be a hindrance to Bonnie's tuition but no. You're quite the opposite. In many ways you're another anchor for her. A familiar almost."

Damon gulped.

"It is a rare thing indeed for a witch to foster the kind of relationship you two share. It is heretical to our beliefs but also…extraordinary. It is not my place to say more than I already have. You love her and yet you fight it."

"All right, I'm done."

"Coward. Of many things Bonnie needs she needs a man not a boy and you are certainly a boy."

Damon's nostrils flared.

"Why can't you admit what you feel?"

"Because I'm in love with someone else!"

And he said that loud enough to have several heads turning in their direction. Heat stung Damon's cheeks.

Dahlia moved closer, "Are you sure about that?"

Five minutes later Damon staggered out of Mystic Grill and dropped into the bucket seat of his whip. He was fast but there was certain truths he couldn't outrun.

* * *

Phone glued to the palm of her hand, she willed it to ring, though she ceaselessly berated herself for not taking off to find Damon effing Salvatore. How could he humiliate her like that and then just up and run for the hills?

"Fucking coward," Elena Gilbert fumed.

Could she regard Damon's calling out another woman's name while she blew him as a Freudian slip? It was amazing how the ego and heart worked in concert to fill in blanks to rile up or simmer down her anger and misgivings about the situation. How it tried to give Damon the benefit of the doubt and argue the better part of the afternoon had been spent talking about Bonnie directly and indirectly, so therefore she been on his mind. But…

The _way _Damon said her name…that's what irked her. And what of his behavior before that terrible moment in the shower? Damon had been agitated and jittery, snappish and spacing out. She had no idea what had been going on with him, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time he confided in her about anything. They were in a relationship but honestly these last few weeks Damon had been a ghost.

Every encounter involving Bonnie and Damon she witnessed filtered through Elena's head. The smiles, the lingering looks, him cockblocking Klaus and Stefan at the ball; it came tumbling forward colliding with her insecurities and taunting from Caroline who boldly proclaimed one of them wanted to fuck the other.

Had they?

Elena turned from the window hearing tires drive across pine needles and rocks.

The prodigal boyfriend had returned.

The rustic bungalow cushioned between sprawling trees never appeared more intimidating to Damon than it did in this instant. When he got right down to it, there were only two ways things could go down. All right three. Badly. Horribly. Or Horribly badly. Head hanging low, Damon pushed air in and out of his lungs psyching himself up to face the inevitable and do the inevitable. The idea of what he was about to do, he would rather take a dip in a pool full of rotted animal flesh. But this had to be done. For a while he had been living a double life. And it was in those poignant seconds of awareness that Damon saw the irony and understood how being trapped in the middle fucking sucked.

Three years ago he thought it had been a selfish statement Elena made: choosing one and losing the other. Now being in that same situation he understood her hesitation, her waffling emotions, her indecision, her refusal to actually think about her feelings and make a sound and fair decision. Hurting someone could be remarkably easy and incredibly hard.

His boots left tracks on the damp ground as he drew closer to the porch. If the world decided to end he wouldn't fight it. He would happily let this be the last moment of his life.

On the porch now his hand hovered above the knob. Throat closing, eyes stinging, Damon twisted the knob and ambled inside.

The living room was vacant but his brow did furrow at the duffle bag waiting on the couch. The bag belonged to Elena.

Who was now coming down the stairs. She paused at seeing him, lips compressed so tightly together they were almost white. Her eyes fell away and she cleared the rest of the stairs, rounded the corner and headed straight for her luggage.

"Where are you going?" Damon asked in a graveled tone.

"Back to the dorms."

"Did Stefan flip his switch?"

Elena scoffed.

"Where is he?" Damon felt unease creep along.

Elena stopped her packing, glared. "I let him go."

Eyes bulged Damon stood in front of Elena so fast tendrils of her hair flew up. "What the hell do you mean you let him go?"

She shoved him to get some breathing room, "I mean, _Damon _I let your brother go because you're too fucking preoccupied to make him and us by extension your top priority. Face it! I was never going to be enough to get Stefan to welcome his humanity in with open arms. Neither of us is capable of doing it. So why bother?"

"Elena," Damon scrubbed the back of his neck. "I know my head has been all over the place since I came up with the idea…"

"No," she cut him off with an imperial hand. "You've been preoccupied way before we kidnapped Stefan. You haven't been _here_ since Bonnie came back." Elena waited for him to deny it.

Damon opened his mouth to do just that, but the shaky smile Elena graced him with stopped him cold in his self-explaining tracks.

"I think I have a pretty good idea why things have changed but I just need to hear it," Elena pled softly.

The last part of that dredged up an unpleasant memory in Damon. The night he asked Katherine plainly, no bullshit, no chaser if she loved him. _Ever_ loved him. He wanted to beg Elena not to do this to him so he wouldn't destroy her like Katherine had destroyed him that night. His intestines like that brutal day were tying into knots, and he was fairly sure if he talked blood would pour out of his mouth.

Moistening her lips, eyes clouding with tears, Elena breathed out, "Are you in love with Bonnie?"

Damon cursed in Italian and wished Elena had asked him anything but that. However, he thought of the relief he would feel before guilt inexorably flooded his conscience.

When he didn't answer right away, Elena asked again though repeating the question was sapping her of energy. "Are you in love with…."

"Yes."

* * *

Spending the day with Matt turned out to be far more cathartic than Bonnie expected. They binged on pizza, chips, and soda while getting caught up on several Netflix series'. She hated to feel oddly thankful to Dahlia for giving her a night of freedom but she needed the detox. However, throughout the day when one ear wasn't listening for a phone call that never came, Bonnie couldn't trample down her curiosity about the new strength of her powers.

Getting a handle on her body heat was tantamount. Matt had cranked on the AC, even found a portable fan, but still he perspired profusely. Over and over Bonnie tried to leave to give him some relief, but he waved her concerns aside constantly reminding Bonnie they hadn't spent any real time together since she escaped the prison world.

"You really are fire now, aren't you?" he snorted good-naturedly.

Yeah, Bonnie supposed she was.

Halfway to her humble abode, her cell rang. Her heart lurched and her stomach flipped once she spied who was calling.

Bonnie let her phone ring a few more times before answering.

"We need to talk," Damon began without preamble.

Her eyes glinted at his lack of etiquette. "Where are you?"

"Parked in front of the 'Welcome to Mystic Falls' sign."

Bonnie wedged her phone between shoulder and cheek, palmed the steering wheel to make a U-turn. "Give me ten minutes."

Nine minutes later she pulled her Prius to the shoulder and crept along until she parked behind Damon's Camaro.

Climbing out of her car, the smell of rain was heavy on the air. She softly closed the driver's side door and tentatively joined Damon who sat on the hood of his car.

He didn't look at her or say anything when she planted herself next to him. His headlights were trained on the sign; a bottle of bourbon rested near his boot that was planted on the ground. This was symbolic for Damon. He had toasted the sign of his hometown right before driving his car into the Grill igniting the charge that had been set by Matt and Jeremy. It was where his relationship with Elena went out with a bang and where his friendship with Bonnie, not necessarily started but the door had been opened.

Gnawing her lip, Bonnie tossed Damon furtive glances unable to decipher his neutrality. An inordinate number of minutes expired with neither of them uttering a peep. Tension congealed like the clouds that were rolling in from the east. Ozone thick in the air shrouded them. Slashes of lightning served as a warning to get to safety, yet here they stood on an open road.

"If you're not going to say anything…" Bonnie began.

"There's something I need to do," Damon interrupted, seemingly jolting out of his silence.

"What?"

Damon stood in front of her, stood so close if she so much as took a deep breath her chest would have brushed his. He cupped Bonnie by the back of the neck. He felt her skin pickle at his touch and something about that soothed him. Damon's steely blues drowned in her anomalous golds. Twenty-four hours later and they still shone like the sun. The dark-haired vampire wasn't sure if he liked it, but she was beautiful either way.

"Damon…" Bonnie tried to keep it together. But he was touching her.

"You're so warm."

"What are you doing?" she hated how shaky her voice was. Her breath hitched...then...

Damon's lips sealed over hers and Bonnie's incredulous eyes remained open. He sucked reverently on her top lip before switching to the bottom, laving it with care and attention. Slumberous, her lids shut the moment Damon's nimble tongue gently prodded the seam of her lips begging entry.

Entry granted.

Tongue tips touched and it wasn't long before Damon piston his in and out of Bonnie's mouth mimicking what the bottom half of him would _love_ to do. Blood flowed to his dick which he pressed into Bonnie's hip.

Hands twisted into the lapels of his shirt and what started out as an exploratory jaunt was turning into something wild and uninhibited. Mewls and moans, Damon hungrily devoured each and every single one.

She couldn't help it. A lash of power escaped her like an orgasm.

The horns of their cars started blaring, windshield wipers whipped back and forth across dry glass, radios flared to life blasting an ear shattering mix of Nine Inch Nails and Bruno Mars. Those disturbances went ignored.

Heads bobbed and weaved looking for the right place to attack, taste, nibble. It was too much for Bonnie and then not enough. She tasted the bourbon on Damon's tongue and beneath that was him. _That _flavor she wanted more and more of, and was convinced if she didn't get it her head just might blow off.

Or that could be the lack of oxygen.

She held on to his bottom lip even as her lungs screamed. Hayden was an excellent kisser, Jeremy had been all right, but Damon…world class. He kissed like she was the conduit to his immortality. Kissed like her mouth contained buried treasure. Or perhaps she was the treasure and he was honoring it, paying it tribute. She hummed all over and drew even closer to the point her nose was buried in his cheek. And still it wasn't close enough.

Damon burned for her, was hot for her. She was making a place for herself in his veins, in his head, in his heart. Bonnie was everywhere and everything to him. He had a bad day she made it better. He missed home and her voice reminded him he had never left. He closed his eyes and saw her face, and if he touched himself he would probably feel her hands.

Vampire hormones were a hell of a drug.

Bonnie pulled away first, needing to breathe. Light curls of smoke filtered between her swollen lips. Damon's as well. Damn, she almost sent them up in flames. She stared at him with a mixture of timidity, awe, and raw hunger.

He wore the same mirrored expression until his usual cockiness reared its precious head. His equally swollen lips curled into a dirty smirk. "Now we talked."

**A/N: Some talk *chuckles*. Originally I did have a Bamon conversation written but it just didn't feel right. It wasn't gelling right, the words weren't coming to me how I wanted, and there was too much inner musings. So it got the ax. **

**Special note: In the beginning of the chapter the parts italicized actually happened. Everything else in the beginning may have been a dream or a premonition. *waggles brows* Thank you guys for reading. If you feel inclined to review it would be deeply appreciated. I hope you do. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Y'all are the light of my life. Thank you**

* * *

Treasures were often buried in obscured places. Until unearthed. Refurbished they became spectacles, drawing in shock and awe that a remnant of an unknown past had survived. Treasures hidden in plain sight were harder to reconcile for they exposed observational weaknesses. Somewhere on the scale Damon was finding out how long he had stumbled around in the dark when the light he needed had been in front of him for years.

Damon eagerly swooped in for another kiss. The first explained his interest, this would reaffirm his intentions. Steamy spice was exchanged with the flit of his inquisitive tongue along Bonnie's who mewled softly at the invasion. The more they kissed, the longer they kissed, the hotter things became. Damon pushed Bonnie up against his ride, the back of her knees coming into contact with the chrome bumper. Her ass unexpectedly landed on the hood and she threw out a hand on its hard metal surface to keep her balance.

Unbeknownst to the preoccupied witch her hand began to dent the metal as if it were clay. The paint melted, the metal groaned in relief once Bonnie removed her hand and wrapped it around Damon's wrist as their mouths moved with purpose and hunger.

Somewhere along the edges of his consciousness, Damon sensed whatever magic it was that kept him alive in his dead state, was ballooning. Filling up with an unidentifiable substance he could only call—Bonnie. He swelled beyond what should have been possible everywhere but felt it most notably in his dick.

He pulled away, severing the connection, shuddering uncontrollably for long moments. If he moved so much as an inch he probably would have blown to pieces, and the image of him scattered on the ground in little edible Damon bits made him grin. Pressing their foreheads together, Damon stared at Bonnie whose eyes were closed.

Lightly panting she licked the taste of Damon off her lips. Groaned lowly. Craved more. "Thank you, I…I really needed that," Bonnie breathed sultrily.

And she did. The emptiness she carted around far longer than ending up a prison world had receded. It wasn't…entirely gone. The pit was still there lingering in the bottom of her stomach it felt like, but it wasn't as big as before. Being with Hayden meant being with a body, another person to connect and anchor her in the world she had been snatched from prematurely. Seeking attachments to other people stirred anxiety and Bonnie couldn't help but second guess if she relied too heavily on Damon when she wasn't sure of what she meant—if anything—to him. Doubt lingered like an infestation that he was kind to her in his own Damon way because she sent him back, sacrificing her chance to go home. That for him it never went any deeper or meant anything beyond Bonnie being Bonnie.

For Damon to kiss her like that spoke volumes and yet that hope killer was gaining in support that perhaps the kiss still really had nothing to do with her, but everything to do with Damon deciding which between two women he cared for more.

Bonnie's chin dropped to her chest and she tried to put space between them, but Damon maintained his hold on her. "I should go," she mumbled softly.

Damon blinked. That hadn't been the response he anticipated. "What? Why?"

Her stare was liquid sunset that penetrated through his stratums of indifference and ice when she met his gaze. "You know why."

"You think I'd kiss you if my head was still lodged up a Petrova's ass?"

"You've kissed girls who were in love with your brother so…"

The barb stung.

"A kiss is nice," Bonnie expounded. "You're my only friend right now and I don't want to mess that up, but I need…more."

"Haven't I been in your corner since you've come back?"

"You have been and I appreciate it. It's just…"

"It's just…?" Damon probed. He stepped closer, so close he was pretty much standing on top of Bonnie. "After what we've been through why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Because," Bonnie had to stop herself from petulantly stomping her foot. Why couldn't Damon understand that talking about her feelings besides the ones on the surface was hard as hell for her?

"Bonnie…?"

She lost her patience. "I HAVEN'T FELT LIKE ANYONE LOVES ME IN A _VERY_ LONG TIME!"

Her shout echoed and Damon jerked a bit at the force of her words as if they were a physical slap.

To Bonnie's annoyance her throat hurt as she fought off tears. "Loves me independently of anyone or anything else," she continued. "Loves me without conditions. I don't know what that feels like anymore. I need love, Damon. Genuine love."

There it was out. She was not so cold inside to scoff at the idea of needing love to survive like Dahlia would. She was not so far removed from the girl who sighed dreamily at the idea of what her future husband would look like, or blushed horribly when passing by her latest crush. Bonnie wanted something of her own. She had her magic, which was great, but she couldn't exactly hold it.

Damon's chest expanded on an inaudible inhale.

He knew exactly what Bonnie was asking, what she needed. Damon knew how Bonnie felt because he'd been there not too long ago. Besides Stefan he had had no one else, and that relationship for years had always been shaky and violent. Until he started letting people in. And those people around him tolerated him for lots of reasons but love was dead last on the list. Apart from Elena. Being the greedy creature he was, Damon made a vow he wouldn't rest until the love that turned him inside out, made him occasionally check his conscience was returned. However, he misread something. Severely.

It hadn't been Elena explicitly who motivated him, for lack of a better word, to be a better man. She never made him question if he could be selfless enough to save someone else and not himself. The person who had made him reevaluate his choices, see himself from a new perspective without disregarding the atrocities he committed was Bonnie. She didn't reside on a unearned pedestal, Damon mused.

As he opened his mouth Bonnie wasn't in the mood to hear a rejection. She pushed Damon far enough aside for her to wiggle away.

An approaching car lit up the road and Bonnie shielded her eyes from the glare of the headlights. The car zoomed by showing no signs of slowing down once crossing into Mystic Falls. She turned to watch but noticed Damon was gone.

He was in front of her. Bonnie bumped into his chest as he blocked the short path to her car.

His head was tilted in a way that cast his features in shadows. Bonnie waited for him to say something. He did.

"I love you. I love you like I've loved no one else before. _That's_ real."

An indecipherable noise fluttered between Bonnie's kiss swollen lips.

The first drops of rain dotted the pavement. Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed intermittent between the inflated clouds. Clichéd as it sounded, they felt like the only two people in the world.

"Maybe I'm the wrong person but I want to be the person who gives you what you want and need. Tell me you don't feel the same," Damon caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Tell me that once again I'm in something that's one sided."

Slowly her head shook from side to side. "It's not. I…" Bonnie's tongue momentarily got stuck to the roof of her mouth. "I love you, too."

The tautness in Damon's chest released, the octave of his voice lowered as he fought off a smile, "You just love me?"

"Do you just love me?" Bonnie countered with a tipped chin.

"No, I don't just love you. I'm in love with you, Bonnie."

It was Bonnie who initiated the kiss this time. And she didn't stop until she was good and ready.

* * *

Bonnie knew for a fact that the two guys huddled in the corner were Whitmore professors and one of them was screwing his student. Someone was carrying a concealed firearm and had robbed a woman while she loaded packages into her car last night. The lady at the far end of the counter lost her job since the company she worked for decided to outsource her department to India, and the cook was currently thinking about sending his sick aunt roses while preparing an order of chicken wings.

Her psychic powers were on one hundred but none of it mattered because Damon loved her! Was in love with her!

Perched on a stool at the 50's themed diner near Whitmore University, swinging her feet, Bonnie had a song in her heart as she spooned ice cream into her mouth. Anytime she felt herself smiling too broadly or spacing out to replay last night, she'd blush and covertly look around to make sure no one was staring at her strangely. But again, what did any of it matter? She was air, one of the lightest substances and for years she had been lead. Bonnie couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy. Felt this hopeful about the future. Nothing and everything changed with the stroke of a tongue.

Her cheeks blazed more.

"I had my own Pacey and Joey moment," she grinned maniacally into her banana split.

If asked how long they languished on the side of the road, Bonnie wouldn't be able to answer. Night disappeared and became day as they sat on the hood of her car talking about everything and nothing until exhaustion caught up to Bonnie, and they parted ways.

It was the single most romantic night of her life. So far.

Bonnie sighed again. Her happiness declining like the economy.

Ever experience that feeling that someone was going to ruin your day? That feeling throbbed in Bonnie's temples, but she continued eating her ice cream as if she had not a single care in the world. She did crick her neck, moved her shoulders, and tap her fingers on the countertop.

The bell above the door jingled. Bonnie's eyes slid to the left.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the boyfriend stealing bitch," Caroline Forbes crossed the sticky linoleum floor like it was a catwalk whereas the girl trailing behind her strolled in timidly. "How've you been?"

Those who heard that colorful proclamation swiveled their heads, conversations tapering off.

Bonnie spooned another bite of increasingly melting ice cream into her mouth. Caroline came up to her left, propping her elbow on the counter. Elena…she stood to Bonnie's right but a foot or two away.

"I wouldn't talk smack with eyebrows like yours, Care," Bonnie smiled broadly.

Caroline's lips flattened into a thin line.

"What do you want?" Bonnie addressed the doppelganger without looking directly at her.

Elena had it down pact what she would say to Bonnie the moment she saw her. Now that the moment was here, her confidence dried up like a country facing famine. This was a first for her. Being dumped for her friend. She didn't get dumped, she did the dumping. Damon wasn't going to walk away from her just because he might have confused gratitude for love. No, it wasn't happening. Elena was going to stake her claim, and for Bonnie's own good she'd let go of any notion of her stepping aside so that the two of them could be together.

Elena was certain that Bonnie wouldn't toss their friendship aside for Damon. That's not how Bonnie operated. She valued those in her life like a lifeline, and for years she had placed everyone's happiness above her own. Bonnie wouldn't stop with the selfless act now.

Right?

"We need to talk, Bonnie," Elena glanced at Caroline for assurance.

Caroline skulked into the proverbial shadows. Grinning. Running into Elena last night who sat in a booth at Skull Bar crying into her drink, she had had every intention of ignoring the simpering doppelganger, but her curiosity got the better of her. All it took was one question and Elena spilled her guts everywhere, sniffling and wiping her snotty nose as she recounted Damon telling her straight to her face that he was in love with Bonnie.

Caroline wasn't sure how she managed not to cackle and wheeze, but kept it together. As she plied the annoying twit with drinks, she also poisoned her. Poisoned the weakling with improbable scenarios of how Bonnie and Damon were probably celebrating their newfound feelings. All right so some of those scenarios were possible. Caroline appealed to Elena's overinflated victim mentality telling her she shouldn't just plop herself on the sidelines and_ let_ Damon and Bonnie get away with betraying her.

Honestly she really didn't care what the witch and vamp did with their genitalia, but this was proving to be far more entertaining than being on the lamb.

"So talk," Bonnie hunched a shoulder.

"I don't know how else to say it so I'm just going to say it. Damon…He thinks he's in love with you but I know that can't be true," she blurted.

Bonnie turned her head just enough for Elena to catch her profile. "Why wouldn't it be true? I'm not good enough for anyone to love me?"

"I'm not…that's not what I'm saying. Bonnie…the connection that Damon and I share…it…even without my memories of him I still managed to fall in love with him and he never stopped loving me. Am I supposed to believe that somewhere along the way he fell for you, too?"

"If he said he has then when why are you refusing to believe him? You think if you deny, deny, deny what's right in front of you that it won't be true? Let me be frank, your relationship with Damon was high school on meth. The Damon you're with now—had, sorry, you only had because of me."

Elena was totally affronted and it showed in her slacked jaw and arched brows. "Oh, so you think you're a better choice for Damon?"

"Yes," Bonnie deadpanned.

Elena stabbed her fingers through her hair, distraught, "I can't believe I'm hearing this right now."

"Believe it."

Elena searched her over trying to spot a defect that would tell her the Bonnie she was talking to was a doppelganger, or a fraud, or anything to get rid of the bitter taste accumulating in her mouth.

"You're saying you don't care that the two of you having feelings for each other hurts me? You don't care that Damon broke my heart last night for you? You don't care at all?"

This would be the point where Bonnie would say she was in love with Damon but loved her friendship with Elena more. That she would happily bury her feelings in order not to lose her sister because family was more important than pursuing what was in her heart. That she would forget everything about Damon. Pack him away like clothes that no longer fit, and deny herself any measure of happiness. That she would gladly reside on the sidelines clapping and smiling as her friends experienced every facet of life there was to explore.

That Bonnie died in 1994.

That Bonnie died when she was shot through the stomach with an arrow.

That Bonnie died when she had been choked, drugged, kidnapped, thrown into a trunk, made to share a holiday meal with the asshole who stabbed her in the stomach and left her for dead.

That Bonnie died when her botched rescue mission failed and she was left utterly alone _for months_.

That Bonnie died when, upon being reunited with her friends, the blonde made a nasty quip about 'why are we happy she's back again?'

That Bonnie died when she realized her dreams, desires mattered, and she was more than the black best friend.

"Sure I care. Hurting you is not what we're trying to do, but that's out of our control. And yes I love him. _More_ than love him," Bonnie admitted. "For the second time in my life I'm in love and I'm not giving it up."

Ringing, Elena could hear ringing in her ears that felt superhot along with a pain boiling in the center of her chest, and like ripples in water, fanned out, radiating in every nerve and limb. The floor tipped sideways beneath her feet. This couldn't be happening. But it was happening. Her boyfriend and best friend were in love with each other.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Don't tell me you think Damon is your soulmate," the skepticism was thick in Caroline's voice.

Bonnie ignored the question. "I said what I said."

Elena had no idea what to do, how to take what was said, had no clue what her next move should be. Pain like she'd never felt before engulfed her that for a second she thought for sure she'd been set ablaze.

"So what do you want to do now, Elena? Fight? We both know who's going to win."

"Maybe you haven't noticed but its two against one," the blonde instigated. "And…there are so many toys here for me to play with."

The threat was clear. Caroline would slaughter the patrons and staff therefore dividing Bonnie's attention while Elena got her cheap shots in. Clever.

Swiveling on the stool, Bonnie faced her friends.

Their jaws dropped.

* * *

Slag. Demon. Succubus. Heretic. Witch. Just the many names she had been called yet she would only answer to one. She had been a daughter, a sister, a mother figure to a witch who lacked discipline, but she had never been a friend, a confidante, a wife, and that was fine with her. So long as she was respected to hell with all the rest.

Dahlia looked at the massive clock tower right as the long hand struck the 12 signaling the start of a new hour.

Looking forward once more, Dahlia caught sight of her nephew traipsing along the sidewalk all golden-haired and dimpled smile.

"Ah, my darling aunt."

Dahlia sniffed, "Hybrid."

His insolent grin widened to mocking proportions. "I see you're as personable as falling on a cactus this fine afternoon."

The old witch merely looked at him.

"How is our dear apprentice coming along?"

"How she is fairing I can guarantee is no business of yours. Though, if prompted, I'm sure she'd be eager to demonstrate what she's learned thus far…on you."

Klaus chuckled, "I'm sure Bonnie would salivate at the chance to get me on my back. And you know, I'm not averse to her straddling me."

Dahlia looked heavenward, "If you have nothing of value to say, _tuatha_ then I suggest you go about your day."

Forehead bunched like an accordion, Klaus stretched his lips into a facetious smile. "Enjoy your stroll then."

Klaus resumed his stride toward the main entrance of Mystic Grill. Unbeknownst to him, he opened and held the door for a fuming Lily Salvatore who blazed past him barely giving the Original a glance or acknowledgement.

"You're welcome," he retorted irritably and darted inside.

Lily's chest swelled and deflated with disappointment and aggravation. She had returned to the scene of the crime hoping Bonnie might show her face to check on the annoying blond boy. Not so. Did Bonnie think she had been bluffing about ending her little human friend? Yes, she'd done no more harm to Matt Donovan than him taking a spill down the stairs, the fact remained she _could have_ torn him limb from limb. Crushed his bones, turned his muscles into mashed potatoes. She was, after all, a ripper. A trait she unfortunately passed to her second son. Nevertheless, the ball had been in her proverbial court and she lost it. But make no mistake, Lily's jaw tightened, the little tart along with her stalwart of a son had another thing coming! She had been patient and kind; laying low as Damon suggested, but no more. This era, these people were strange, and Lily saw herself balancing on a tipping point.

She wanted her companions. Was there any crime in that?

Ordering herself to move at human speed, her head turned right as she was sailing by Dahlia. Lily almost stopped dead in her tracks but kept moving. There was something about the woman in the black coat that reminded her of…ah yes, Lily had her answer with the shift in the wind. That was magic she smelled on the woman. Ancient, unfettered, insidious. She would remember that.

Her pocket began vibrating. Frowning, it was then Lily remembered the device Enzo had been kind enough to procure for her. An object he referred to as a smartphone. She was in his debt and not just for the phone, but for not writing her off as her sons had done. Imagine her surprise in discovering the vampire Damon had ordered to track her, she had turned in 1903.

Pushing the answer button, Lily held the phone to her ear, "Yes?"

"I have eyes on the witch. She's at a diner not far from Whitmore University. I'll text you directions."

"Good. I'm on my way. If she should leave before I arrive, follow her. Do not let her out of your sight."

"I won't."

"Thank you, Lorenzo," she hung up and quickened her steps.

Dahlia too seemingly took notice of Lily. Her anger was caviar, her rage the juiciest of venison. More than likely someone would be dead by nightfall, the old witch was sure of it. A vampire that mad only knew of one way of exorcising their wrath.

Murder.

Dahlia summoned her acolytes. It was time to do a little spying.

* * *

We're all tougher in our heads than in real life, Elena mused dancing on her feet as she waffled on what to do. She couldn't look away from the golden hue of Bonnie's eyes. What did that mean?

A young mother sensing the danger, hastily gathered up her two small children, threw some money on the table and propelled them out the door. For others who were simply too enthralled or scented bloodlust, they discreetly reached for their phones ready to capture the brawl if it ever came to fruition. The owner of the diner wandered over ready to diffuse the situation that was brewing. Several things were covered in his insurance, but knucklehead customers getting into it and destroying his shit was not one of those things.

He ambled closer, cleared his throat that was promptly seized by a milk-white hand.

A collective gasp rent through the air, the patrons rendered immobile disbelieving what they were seeing. A preppy blonde choking a man twice her age and size. The owner's nephew began cursing up a storm in Italian as he debated whether he should come to his uncle's aid or call the police.

"It's been a while since I've eaten Italian," Caroline quipped. "A few weeks at the most. I'm drooling at the thought of it," she eyed the rising colors of her hostage's face.

"Caroline," Elena warned. She hadn't agreed to a pointless killing spree.

"Call your dog off, Elena before I have to raise my foot to it," Bonnie stated icily.

Hearing the insult, Caroline let go of the man's throat who immediately cupped it and coughed violently. "The fuck you say?"

Even with her back to Caroline, Bonnie knew the exact moment her fangs came out and her eyes bled red and black.

She lunged right as Bonnie hopped to her feet, freezing Caroline and Elena to the spot.

Ivy began growing along the walls, the floor, sprouted from the fake, potted plant near the rear of the diner.

Dozens of pairs of widened eyes darted around. No one could move a muscle. Panic seized those unlucky to get out while the getting had been good. The trilling of twenty heartbeats engulfed the space, food sizzled and burned on the unattended grill, a song by Sammy Davis Jr. crooned melodically in the background providing a stark contrast to what was unfolding.

Outside the diner the windows were obscured by the spontaneous burst of fauna. Enzo who was parked across the street in his vintage Mercedes sat up straighter.

"The hell is going on?" he pondered aloud.

"Bonnie?" Elena said through clenched teeth trying in earnest to move any body part she could. Useless.

But Bonnie wasn't listening or focused on the long-haired brunette but the blonde gone rogue because her mother died. Caroline thought she knew pain, was an authority on what it felt like to lose a parent. She didn't have a gotdamn clue. Maybe Liz couldn't have been saved no matter what in the end. The point was: she died peacefully and with dignity. Rudy…his death had been cold-blooded, cruel, the crux of white patriarchal privilege that you could kill a black man and get away with it.

Each injustice she and her family suffered inundated Bonnie. The temperature spiked. Sweat poured off everyone, objects unable to sustain the heat exploded. Those sunset colored orbs of Bonnie's turned turbulent.

Veins bulged from the foreheads of the vampires.

"Sleep," Bonnie whispered.

Heads hit the tables; bodies slumped in booths and at the counter. Bonnie knocked out the humans but kept the blood drinkers very much awake.

"Caroline, I'm going to make this painless for the both of us because I refuse to deal with the 2009 version of you."

"_You know the parts of the brain_," Dahlia's reminded evenly in a disembodied voice Bonnie was unsure if she were actually hearing or not.

"Yes," she answered out loud.

"What are you doing?" the façade slipped and nervousness bled out of Caroline. The words, 'I'm sorry' where right on the tip of her tongue but she refused to let them out.

"_The brain is made up of chemicals, enzymes all of which you can control. Find the right sequence and you can control_ her."

"I said what the hell are you doing?"

Ah, yes, Bonnie could see the synapses firing in Caroline's head and saw where there was a void, a dark area where there was very little activity. Her power, like an EMP pulse shot out of Bonnie.

"Say hello to your humanity. _A 'faireachdainn,_" she snapped her fingers, triggering Caroline's hypothalamus—the origin of emotions and pituitary gland in her brain.

It all came back to Caroline, in a rush, a torrent, like a tsunami coming out of nowhere and she felt _everything. _She freaked, unsure of what to grip to make it stop. Her head, her heart, her stomach, but it didn't seem to matter because what she wanted to grip lived in a place she couldn't physically reach. Caroline buckled to the floor the second Bonnie released her, rocking back and forth as tears spilled down her cheeks in salty streaks.

"My mom," gut wrenching sobs was ripped from Caroline's soul. "What…how…Bonnie."

Her pleas went unanswered as Bonnie stared down Elena who was visibly afraid.

"There's so much I want to say to you but you'll just hear what you want to hear. The only thing I regret is the friendship we lost long ago, and one we were never going to be able to get back. That will," Bonnie sighed tiredly, "will haunt me. So…" she slapped her hands on her thighs, "you have a nice life, Elena."

The witch vanished stepping out into the brilliance of the warm spring day. Her burgeoning good mood almost plummeted at the sight of her mentor waiting with her arms folded.

"How did that feel?" Dahlia inquired already knowing the answer.

"Fucking amazing."

It was hard to tell but pride did beam from Dahlia's perpetually dower façade. "Wonderful. But I must ask…why did you spare them?"

Bonnie recalled what Klaus said. _Power doesn't always equate to ending life. Power can equate sparing life. _She knew better than to quote Klaus to Dahlia but eventually said, "Not killing them puts them in my debt."

"Wise girl. Shall we?"

Mentor and mentee fell in step with one another seemingly oblivious to their surroundings.

Lily had caught the tail end of what happened inside the diner. Bonnie was far more powerful than she thought, a lot craftier as well. She'd have to come up with a new fool-proof strategy to get what she wanted.

* * *

A day of fruitlessly searching for Stefan turned up nothing. Damon wasn't surprised. If a vampire couldn't make him or herself disappear they were a certified lame, an embarrassment to the species. The search could have gone down without a hitch with Bonnie's help, but until the kinks were worked out with her new anchor, Damon wanted to limit how often she used her magic.

He was on the phone with her now being debriefed as he drove home with the intentions of packing a bag and heading to her place for a few days. He repeatedly reprimanded himself citing he needed to move slowly, at a pace Bonnie was comfortable with; however, the urge to be next to her overrode propriety. He'd made it sixteen hours being separated. Damon refused to go any longer.

Did he think he was out of the woods on the Elena front? No. Their pattern had been break up, have sex, make up, break up, have more sex. Yet during the periods they weren't together (a bulk of it Katherine had spent impersonating Elena), Damon never caught feelings for anyone else. This time around things were vastly different. Nevertheless at the end of the day he hoped he didn't fuck it up.

"Sounds like you had a very productive day," Damon palmed the steering wheel making the turnoff for the boardinghouse.

"If you mean learning there's nothing to be done about my eyes, flipping a vampire's humanity switch, and admitting how I feel about a particular Salvatore to a certain Gilbert, then yes it was productive."

"And how do you feel about this particular Salvatore?"

"Right now, he's making me feel impatient. Hurry up."

Damon chuckled. "I'm gonna grab some stuff from the house and then I'll be on my way to you."

"All right. Have a taste for anything?"

"You sure you want the answer to that question?"

"Damonnnn," Bonnie moaned.

"You keep saying my name like that…"

She giggled, "Just get here."

"I will. Okay? I'll see you soon."

Damon hung up the phone, goofy smile refusing to relax. That smile did slip when he saw the front door to his house was wide open.

Carefully stepping out of his parked vehicle, Damon turned up the volume of his hearing. He heard someone sniffling, logs cracking in the grate, the usual sounds of nature, but nothing else. Stealthily negotiating his steps as not to alert whoever was inside his house that he was coming, he sniffed the air. Smelled perfume. Shadows flickered, firelight. Damon fell into predator mode as he stepped on the veranda. Another step he'd cross the threshold but he couldn't move forward.

He couldn't get in the house. "What the…?"

"Hello Damon," Lily appeared in the doorway.

"What have you done?" her son scowled.

Lily brought one hand from behind her back. In it she held a document. "I had the name on the deed changed."

Damon laughed. "You know I'll just find out who you compelled to assume ownership and kill them."

"You could do that but…could you kill the person who is the daughter of these two people?" she presented a polaroid of Zach and Gail.

Damon paled and stumbled back a few steps. The haunted, horrified look on his face filled Lily with unmitigated smugness.

"She's right here," she stepped aside to reveal the person Damon had heard crying. A café au lait girl with long black hair sat stiffly on one of the two couches in the living room, sobbing.

He couldn't believe his eyes and was ready to say it was a trick, a well-played lie to get him to behave. The fetus…the pregnant woman he killed some twenty years ago _died_. Damon had felt the life go out of his nephew's fiancée. Right? He had killed her?

His throat was sandpaper, "Good scam but I'm not falling for it. "

"I assure you, Damon this isn't a scam. Don't believe me ask your brother or Lorenzo."

"If you're doing this for your stupid family…"

"This is about more than that," Lily growled. "This is about respect. Compromise. Compliance…The deed wasn't the only thing I found."

Damon's stomach nose-dived to his toes. In her other hand was the cure.

"The girl will remain here with me until I get what I want. And I wouldn't tarry too long about that, son. I've gone a hundred years without feeding directly from the vein. I just might grow nostalgic." With that sentiment Lily slammed the door in his face.

Cursing and stomping to his car, Damon fumbled for his phone.

Hands grabbed both sides of his head and twisted in different directions. He fell to the ground.

A dark clad figure loomed over Damon's unconscious body.

* * *

Worn leather boots crushed the white snow underfoot. Everywhere the eye fell there was nothing but mountains and unexplored terrain to see. Cerulean irises drew a map of which best course to lead his…company through, yet each route looked difficult at best.

The spoils of war were not always as tasty as the war itself. For what were material possessions to a man who loved to see warm blood paint the floor and walls and…his hands? What was it to him to dig his fingers into endless piles of gold, silver, jewels, or cash when he could rummage around in a wriggling body of a person pleading for their life using only their eyes because their mouth was either sealed with duct tape or their tongue had been cut out?

He never once saw himself as…normal. Apathetic—oh yes but not normal. Never normal. Was he the serpent in the garden? Was he the guy news reporters and children advocates warned you not to speak to on playgrounds? Was he the disarming guy at the party who slipped something into your drink and waited for you to stumble away and black out? The man with a friendly smile who offered to help you with your bags just to stab you for the gore of it?

He was all of the above.

Lips crusted, cheeks, forehead and nose red and cracked, the endless winter made traveling a bitch. Under perpetual night, the sky blazed blue-green and stunk of alkaline. But they finally made it. After weeks of traveling they made it to Nova Scotia.

He scratched at the bite marks on his arm, a sinister smile pulled at his tight, weathered skin. Days spent in a barely lucid haze of bloodletting, hours wasted convincing his new prison mates not to eat him at once—using his position of being head of the Gemini coven to stay their fangs, now he was steps away from getting the key he needed to get the absolute fuck out of hell.

His euphoria did not last long as he recalled the reason why he was going through all this trouble in the first damn place.

Reaching in his inner coat pocket, Kai Parker retracted his crude drawing of Bonnie. Lying on a bed of feathers in pool of her own blood. Granted he was not an artiste, but he figured the father of macabre himself William Blake would approve of his sketch. He traced the contour of her figure salivating at the thought of her shock the second it registered he was out, and yes…he…was…going…to…make…her…_pay_.

You see, she and Damon thought they were leaving him for dead. They thought they were leaving him with a group of starved and desiccated vampires who hadn't eaten in decades, propped up around a table like dogs playing poker. The joke was on them. Being as he couldn't die, the heretics exploited that fact, draining him dry too many times to count.

"I sense it. We're not far."

Kai tucked the drawing away carefully like a precious jewel, and turned to regard the heretic who sidled beside him. Her 20th century bonnet concealed her features but Kai knew which one she was. The serious one out of the bunch. The one the other female heretics couldn't stand.

Smiling cheerily, Kai clapped his hands together and pulled his scarf across his nose and mouth. "Goodie. Let's go kids! Mama's caught a scent."

**A/N: How did we like? Just for reference, William Blake painted The Great Red Dragon, in case any were interested. Dahlia called Klaus a peasant, to translate the word she said to him during their scene. I didn't want to go too deep into the Delena thing since I've covered that in CLTP and there's nothing new to discover there anyways about why they're bad together (besides my general dislike of them). Umm, what else? Bamon said 'I love you.' Damon's in trouble. Bonnie is GOAT. I think that covers everything. Hoped you guys enjoyed. Please, please review! XOXO.**


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